


Everything's Made to be Broken

by MoonShoesReyes



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, GUESS WHOS BACK, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Era, Sick Fic, hi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShoesReyes/pseuds/MoonShoesReyes
Summary: Clarke gets sick, and the person she needs the most isn't there.Luckily, Murphy and Raven are there to distract her.
Relationships: Abby Griffin & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Emori, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy, Clarke Griffin & Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin & Wells Jaha, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Monty Green & Clarke Griffin
Comments: 43
Kudos: 310





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friendos!  
> So this is a fun lil ditty. fun fact - this actually happened to me! my friend got hyperparathyroidism in Jan of 2019, and this is that story! I actually started writing this when it happened, but got distracted. Recently found it. here we are.

TUESDAY

Clarke Griffin wouldn’t classify herself as a particularly dramatic person. She was cautious, yes, and she took things seriously, yes, but she never went above and beyond the appropriate response to any given situation. In fact, when it came to herself, she had a tendency to take things in stride, waiting until an annoyance became an actual issue before acting.

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, her friends more than compensated for her laissez-faire attitude. Most of her friends, with the exceptions maybe being Murphy and Raven, went to Code Red whenever Clarke had a sniffle. However, the worst of them had always been her best friend and roommate, Bellamy Blake.

Bellamy Blake was a weird amalgam of the stereotype of a Jewish grandmother, an angry, 80-year old man screaming at kids to get off his lawn, and an angsty thirteen-year-old who had a penchant for slamming doors. In fact, just the other week Bellamy had yelled at a kid for knocking over his and Clarke’s trash cans, and then slammed two doors on the way to his room.

Anyways, Bellamy’s grandma side usually came out at the first sign of Clarke getting sick, and he had a history of all but force feeding her soup, and taking her to the doctor if the situation got bad enough to justify it, in his mind at least.

But that was before Bellamy got a girlfriend and was suddenly too busy for their weekly TV catch-up binge, not to mention making sure Clarke was healthy.

Clarke had almost convinced herself it was fine. She truly was happy for Bellamy – she wanted him to be happy, no matter what. So what if he couldn’t hang out as much; it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Or, that’s what Clarke told herself. Over and over again until she all but believed it.

At least at first. But then the bitter taste Clarke had whenever she saw Bellamy with his girlfriend, Echo, was put in a different light. After a week or two of barely tolerating her moping, Murphy suggested that maybe Clarke was jealous of Echo. Initially Clarke vehemently denied it, both to herself and to Murphy. And then she thought about it. And then she realized. At some point between hating each other during her first year of college, to enduring each other when their friend groups merged, to eventually relying on each other when they realized that fighting was something they both enjoyed rather than suffered through, Clarke had fallen in love with Bellamy Blake.

Since then, Clarke had attempted to steer clear of being alone with him. Suddenly, everything she had looked forward to just hurt a lot. She began staying nights at the apartment that Raven and Murphy shared, in order to avoid any potential situations or unfortunate noises that could wake her up in the night.

Which brought her to where she was at the moment. Sitting alone at her doctor’s office. When it had dawned on Clarke that Bellamy wouldn’t be there to take care of her this time, she decided to act like the twenty-six year old young woman she was, and call her general care physician to make sure the cough that had lingered after a cold weeks ago was nothing to be worried about.

Evidently, the blood work she had done the previous day came back with an abnormally high level of calcium, and nothing to account for it. So she had to go to the hospital, and she had to call someone to take her. And it was Bellamy, of course. Of course she would, and should, call Bellamy. No matter what she was feeling, or how busy he was, he would want to know, and she wanted him with her.

Except he didn’t pick up. And then he didn’t pick up when she called again. And he didn’t pick up the third time.

Clarke and Bellamy had a long standing agreement that three calls meant emergency. But evidently that agreement didn’t withstand relationships.

So, Clarke called Raven.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s up? I can’t talk long, I’m getting ready for work. And where the fuck are you? I thought you slept here last night?”

“Okay, so I don’t want you to freak out – but I’m at the doctor. I got a call at some ungodly hour this morning saying my blood was weird, so I came in and apparently my calcium is insane, and, fun, it could have complications with my heart!” Clarke feigned excitement, not sure what to expect from Raven.

Her friend was silent on the other end of the phone for a minute before Clarke heard her say, “oh, for fucks sake.” And then, away from the phone, “MURPHY. GET THE FUCK UP WE’RE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL.”

“You’re coming?” Clarke hated the lack of surety in her voice.

“Of course I’m coming. And I’m bringing Murphy, because I can miss this morning, but I don’t think I can do a full day because of the amount of time I took off for my leg. Oh, one sec. MURPHY,” she screamed, away from the phone.

“FUCK OFF, REYES, I’M SLEEPING” Clarke heard faintly.

“HEY DIPSHIT, CLARKE’S BLOOD IS FUCKED UP AND YOU’RE GONNA ACT LIKE THE GOOD FRIEND YOU SECRETLY ARE AND GET YOUR ASS OVER THERE.”

Evidently, that worked. Murphy and Raven were no longer screaming at each other, but Clarke could hear Raven talking to a slightly muffled voice, probably giving a rundown.

“Alright, Clarke, you’re on speaker. Murphy’s here. What’s up?” Raven said, sounding irritated. Murphy had that effect.

“Yea, I don’t really know what’s happening, only that the normal calcium count is about 8-9, and I’m at a 14. So I need to go to the ER to see what’s happening.”

“Is your blood entirely milk?”

“For fuck’s sake Murphy.” Clarke could all but see Murphy’s cheeky grin, and Raven’s eye roll.

“So, do you think you can meet me at the general physician? They’re paying for a taxi.”

“Obviously, Clarke, we are already getting dressed. Who do you think we are?”

“I saw Raven’s bra!” Murphy added.

“Congrats, dipshit, so have I” Raven answered.

“Yea, so have I,” Clarke was smiling. She might not have Bellamy, but she was not alone.

“Not that I wouldn’t be there anyways, but where is Bellamy?” Raven asked, voice briefly muffled, likely from getting dressed.

“I called, he didn’t pick up.” Clarke answered, stiffly.

“Three times?” Raven sounded incredulous.

“Yep.”

“Who cares? Screw him, who needs the party pooper. You got the fun friends now.” Murphy interjected. Clarke was eternally grateful. People often thought Murphy was callous and uncaring, pretty much an asshole. And, to be fair, he was an asshole, but he was an asshole who would do anything for his friends, and Clarke was lucky enough to be counted as one of his friends.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“We’ll be there in 15, do you need us to bring anything?”

Clarke made a brief list, before hanging up and taking a seat in the lobby of the doctor’s office.

She wished her mom lived closer. Clarke had no family living anywhere near her. All she had was her friends. And she loved her friends, her friends were her family. But, right now, she could really use her mom.

Clarke was tempted to call Bellamy again. Not just because she wanted him with her, but because she knew he would want to know about everything that was going on. Clarke was under no illusions that Bellamy didn’t love her, she knew he did, just not in the same way she loved him.

Fuck, she should call him again. Even if he didn’t pick up, she should leave a voicemail. He’d be pissed if she didn’t. So Clarke steeled herself, determined to remain unemotional during the call. She didn’t want him to worry too much, or to feel too guilty for not picking up. Clarke wrapped her sweater around her, stepping outside into the brisk Boston winter, and dialed.

Bellamy’s bizarrely formal voicemail greeted her, and Clarke found herself disappointed. Some part of her thought he would answer this time. Clarke determinedly schooled her emotions.

“Hey, Bell. I hope you and, uh, Echo are doing well. I’m good – finally finished that project for work! Anyways, I thought you should know… Okay don’t freak out, but I’m heading to the hospital for some bloodwork stuff. It’s probably nothing, my GP is probably overreacting, and I’ll be sent home in a few hours with an obscene medical bill. Murphy and Raven are coming, so it’ll be good. Anyways, hope you’re good. Talk soon. Bye, Bell.”

Clarke closed her eyes, leaning back against the medical building. One hand shoved her phone in her pocket, while the other ran through her hair.

This was such bullshit. She didn’t want to be sick – she didn’t have time to be sick. God, didn’t she have enough to worry about? Clarke’s job as a medical researcher was absolutely insane, taking up obscene amounts of time, and her father had been diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. She had enough on her plate without this being added to it.

Frustrated and exhausted, Clarke dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer weight of existing.

“Hey, Reyes! Look at that weirdo. Bet she has fucked up blood.”

“Nah, Murphy, her bones are just fucking jacked. They’re, like, twice as thicc as normal bones. I bet she snorts milk.”

“I’d say her drug of choice is that sweet white powder. Rich girls like their parmesan.”

Clarke smiled behind her hands as some of the weight lifted. She looked over to her friends, grinning tiredly.

“Okay, nerd, I have everything we could possibly need,” Raven declared, “books, cards, computer, and, most importantly, bananagrams.” Murphy coughed, pointedly. “And this one brought the cookies he made yesterday.”

“Fuck yea I did. But you each get only two – the rest are for the nurses.”

“Fuck you, Murphy, you know those oreo cheesecake bastards are my favorite!”

Clarke swallowed a lump in her throat. She really loved her friends.

“Thanks for being here, really.” Raven pulled Clarke into a hug, while Murphy just nodded, knowingly.

Clarke led Murphy and Raven into the doctor’s office lobby, and left them bickering over a magazine while she told the receptionist they were ready to go.

When the cab arrived, the three of them piled into the backseat. Clarke was mostly quiet on the drive, stressing about her potentially life-threatening calcium issue. Raven and Murphy were quietly arguing about something or other, carefully making sure that Clarke was always able to join the conversation, if she wanted to, but giving her the space that she needed to think.

The hospital was a quick drive. They could have walked if it were a nicer day with better circumstances. The emergency room was a little run down when they arrived, but they checked in and found seats in the waiting room, Raven and Murphy making valiant efforts to keep her laughing and distracted.

“You know, Griffin, I bet Reyes could build you new blood. Calcium repellant blood.” Murphy jested, seeing the early signs of Clarke’s anxiety spiral.

“Oh hell yea, I could,” Raven smiled, “Give me… oh, I don’t know, I’d have to learn the basics of medicine… a week and a half? I could totally have a blood substitute in a week and a half.”

Clarke gave a small grin, “why do that when I could just take Murphy’s? I bet I’d put it to better use.”

“Woah, my blood substitute would be much better than Murphy blood. Plus, do you really want something that was inside of Murphy inside of you?”

“First of all, she wishes she could get some Murphy in her –”

Clarke and Raven gave a simultaneous “ew,” but Murphy continued undeterred.

“Plus, I take offence to that. What’s wrong with my blood?”

Thus began a heated debate about who would have the best use of Murphy’s blood, and whether that would be the superior alternative over Raven’s blood substitute.

They had just gotten to questioning whether Murphy’s blood would mutate Clarke like Spider-Man, making her, as Murphy coined, “Murphy-Man,” when a nurse called Clarke to an exam station.

Clarke looked to her friends, each flashing a smile in response, before she stood and followed the nurse, Raven and Murphy trailing behind.

Clarke had a mixed relationship with hospitals. She had spent more time at a hospital while her mom worked than she could remember, and for a while it was almost a comfort, reminding her of the healing that could happen. And then her dad got sick, and all she could see was death waiting for every patient. She couldn’t help but think about that as she passed reception again, and saw a beautiful but clearly sick woman who looked to be about Clarke’s age trying to communicate with the woman behind the desk. The beautiful patient was speaking in broken English, combined with what sounded to Clarke like Portuguese. Clarke spoke some Portuguese, having been taught by one of her many babysitters when she was younger. She slowed, wanting to help, but was hurried along by the flustered nurse. Deciding to help by making her visit as short as possible so the nurse could move on, Clarke allowed herself to be ushered to a very public exam area.

The tests the nurse ran were pretty basic, the kind of thing that would be run during a yearly checkup. Raven and Murphy were quietly arguing about something stupid, and Clarke found herself studying the patients in the emergency room. The beautiful woman from earlier had moved away from the front desk, and was now steadying herself on the partition next to Clarke. Her face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and she seemed to be losing her balance.

“Excuse me,” Clarke said in Portuguese, but before she could ask if she was alright, the woman fell to the ground, seizing.

Clarke scrambled to her feet, startling the nurse doing tests. She rushed to the woman’s side, and started translating, explaining everything that the doctor’s were going to do to the woman before they did it. When the seizure ended, Clarke stayed, translating the woman’s explanations about symptoms and such to the doctors. When the whole ordeal was over, and the sick woman, who Clarke learned was named Luna, had been taken further into the hospital, Clarke finally returned to her own exam.

Her nurse seemed unperturbed; Clarke figured that there was very little that could happen that would surprise an experienced nurse anymore, but Raven and Murphy looked slightly shaken. Murphy broke out of it first, smirking at Clarke.

“You really just have to be that good all the time, don’t you, Griffin?”

Clarke smirked back, “see, that’s why your blood would never work. The minute I tried to do something that wasn’t dickish, your blood would spontaneously combust from confusion.”

Murphy smiled knowingly, and then picked up his conversation with Raven as though nothing had happened.

Finally, Clarke finished her exam, and when the nurse found nothing to explain the high level of calcium, Clarke Griffin was officially admitted to Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital. Raven grabbed Clarke’s hand as a medical bracelet that felt more like a handcuff was slapped on her wrist.

Clarke, Raven, and Murphy were escorted into the actual hospital, and Clarke was assigned one of the beds lining the halls.

She hated this. She hated looking around to see too many patients and not enough doctors. She hated seeing scared and confused and lonely people. Clarke silently squeezed Raven’s hand, and Raven squeezed back. Raven and Murphy both had experience with hospitals – Raven from the times her mother had to have her stomach pumped, and Murphy from when he was sick as a kid. Clarke could tell neither was exactly thrilled to be here either, and her gratitude for them only grew.

Before Clarke could get settled at her bed a doctor approached, taking her away to draw blood. By the time she got back, Murphy had made himself comfortable on her bed, and Raven had started to pack up her belongings.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go, Clarke. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Raven pulled her into a hug.

“I know, it’s okay. You’d be here if you could. I’ll be fine! I bet I’ll be out of here before you finish your day.”

Raven pulled away and looked at Clarke for a moment, before turning to Murphy.

“Hey asshole, don’t be an asshole.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Murphy saluted. Loser.

Raven shook her head in amusement, turning back to Clarke. “Text me if you want me to bring anything later, and if you get any news.”

“Absolutely. Now go, you’re gonna be late.”

Raven nodded, smiling at Clarke, before heading out to catch her uber.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” Murphy proclaimed, clearing off a space on the bed for Clarke.

Clarke tried to smile as she sat down, but couldn’t. The fear was catching up with her, and to her dismay she felt a lump in her throat as a few tears escaped.

“Oh, hey, Clarke. Don’t do that,” Murphy pulled her towards him, letting her rest her head on his chest. “It’s gonna be fine, Griffin, I promise. They’re gonna do some tests and figure out whatever this is. And if it’s something serious, and I’m not saying it is, but if it is, we’ll handle that too. Cockroaches never say die, right?”

Clarke laughed at that, “I’m pretty sure its Goonies never say die, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Yea, no shit it’s Goonies, but I’m making it applicable, dumbass. Now how about I kick your ass at Go Fish. That always makes you feel better!”

“That always makes you feel better, but, yea, why not. I could use a win today.”

“Oh, that’s cute, that you think you’re gonna win. Why don’t you set up, I’m going to give the cookies to the nurses.”

“Yea, okay.” Murphy smiled at her, and she grabbed his arm as he went towards the nurses station. He looked back, raising one eyebrow. “You’re a good person, John Murphy. Don’t forget that.”

He looked embarrassed, but said “yea, well, don’t go ruining my reputation, Griffin, I can be a good guy and a dick.”

She grinned at him, and started dealing while he was gone.

Clarke knew that Murphy had been really sick as a kid, and had spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals. He didn’t talk about it much, but when he did it was really about his dad. His dad was going through some of the hardest stuff imaginable, yet the man managed to be a source of good. He would bring bagels for the nurses every time Murphy had an appointment, and he started an informal support group for other parents who were going through similar things. Murphy’s dad died suddenly, soon after Murphy had gotten better, but Murphy never forgot his dad’s kindness. Clarke figured that was why he brought the cookies; it was something he could do when he was helpless, and it was a way to connect him to his dad. Murphy was a marshmallow, albeit a burnt one. Clarke considered herself lucky to be able to see this side of him.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. They played cards, read some books Murphy brought, chatted about everything and nothing. Clarke was grateful that Murphy pointedly ignored her repeated glances at her phone, hoping that Bellamy had answered.

At one point, after they got a feast of the worst grilled cheese and fries that Boston had to offer, Murphy sent a snapchat of Clarke, laughing with her head ducked and fries coming out of her mouth. He captioned it “the only person I’d suffer hospital food for,” and sent it to their closer friends as a courtesy “hey, Clarke is in the hospital,” notification. They got to enjoy watching Monty open the picture, start typing, stop typing, replay the picture, before finally responding “WHAT?!”

Honestly, there wasn’t much to do. A nurse took her to get an X-ray of her neck done at one point, and some other nurses had Clarke translate for Luna a few more times. But there wasn’t much to be done until there was a diagnosis, and they didn’t want Clarke to leave with her calcium so high. Apparently, her PTH was high as well, which is what caused her calcium to skyrocket. Clarke met a whole slew of doctors with names she would never remember, and gave a whole lot of blood. She also was put on an IV, with the goal to make her pee more so that her calcium would go down.

The hours ticked by, and Clarke wasn’t discharged. Her anxiety was increasing and even Murphy’s absurdity did little to quell it. Eventually, at around 3:00 in the afternoon, she was given an update.

“Hey Clarke – getting bored?” Some young nurse said with forced nonchalance.

Clarke nodded, eagerly.

“So, bad news. Your calcium has only gone up, and we can’t release you tonight.”

The nurse kept talking, but Clarke had frozen. She could feel Murphy’s hand gripping her knee, and she saw that he had his phone out and was taking notes. She was fine. Wasn’t she fine? She felt fine, maybe a little tired, but that was fine. Normal, even. She had to be fine.

“Hey, Clarke?” Murphy got in her eye line. She swallowed twice, grounding herself, before forcing a smile and nodding.

Murphy eyed her, concerned, but continued. “We gotta pack up your stuff. I’ll text Raven and have her bring you some pajamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow. And non-hospital dinner food”

Clarke nodded, starting to get up, but the nurse stopped her. “Oh, no we are going to get a wheelchair down here for you. Your room should be ready in an hour or so.”

Clarke swallowed again, a near permanent knot forming in her throat. She nodded, smiling and thanking the nurse, before starting to clean up the mess she and Murphy had made.

Murphy’s phone dinged, and he checked it and smiled.

“Griffin, your surprise is here! Be right back!” Murphy smirked, and ran towards the reception area of the ER.

Clarke didn’t like the glint in his eye, but Murphy was off before she could say anything. She just sighed, and grabbed her phone.

Clarke opened up her text thread with Bellamy, ignoring the churning sensation at how many blue messages went unanswered.

_Hey Bell. So, don’t freak out, I’m gonna be at the hospital overnight. I don’t know my room # yet, but when I know you’ll know. Hope you’re having fun. Bye._

As she pressed send, Murphy returned, and his smile had turned into a Cheshire’s grin.

“TA DA!” He proclaimed, dramatically using his arms to present something Clarke couldn’t see yet.

And then Monty turned the corner, and her day became a little brighter. Monty was like walking sunshine – it felt like a gift to soak it in.

He didn’t hesitate before diving into Clarke’s arms. Clarke found herself tearing up in the best way imaginable.

While Clarke filled Monty in, Murphy silently finished gathering her things. Once he finished he collapsed into a seat on the bed with Clarke and Monty.

The three chatted amicably about nothing until the nurse returned with a wheelchair.

Clarke glared at it. A symbol of her weakness. Of her dependency. She didn’t even feel _sick_.

Murphy saw her hesitation.

“Oh, get over yourself Griffin, it’s a wheelchair not a coffin.”

Monty smiled at her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She smiled at him, grateful, before taking her seat in her throne of inadequacy.

And the nurse began leading her down a maze of illness that made Clarke dizzy.

Suddenly, Clarke threw her hand out, stopping her entourage. She ignored the protests of the nurse and her friends as she stood, walking to where Luna lay, alone, curled up on a cot.

In Portuguese, Clarke gave Luna her phone, asking for her number. Luna gave it happily, and Clarke made her promise to text if she needed anything, before returning to her invalid’s ride.

After ten minutes of navigating through a confusing hospital, Clarke finally landed in a disappointingly typical hospital room. Sterile, boring, bland, and it looked like she had a roommate, although they weren’t there at the moment. Murphy took the leather seat directly next to the pillows, while Monty sat at the foot of the bed.

Finally, the nurse left, and Clarke broke down. This was actually happening. She was hospitalized. She was sick. Murphy moved from the chair to Clarke’s other side, and both he and Monty took her hands. Neither said anything, there was nothing to be said. Nothing would help. This was her reality right now.

They sat like that until the tears slowed. The three of them fit themselves onto Clarke’s bed and started watching Queer Eye, until Raven got back with dinner. They ate and laughed and talked. For a few minutes, it was like Clarke wasn’t in the hospital. At some point, Clarke’s new roommate arrived. She was an elderly Russian woman who didn’t speak English, smelled like shit, and constantly pulled her catheter out. They did their best to ignore that.

At about 8:00 PM, someone entered.

“Hey Clarke, I’m Doctor Nyko.”

Raven, Murphy, and Monty all introduced themselves, shaking Nyko’s hand.

“We got the results of X-Ray, and we think we have a diagnosis. It looks like you have something called Hyperparathyroidism.”

Monty and Raven grabbed her hands. Murphy pulled out his phone to take notes.

“Everyone has four parathyroid glands in their neck. They are about the size of a grain of rice. The parathyroid produces Parathyroid Hormone, or PTH, and the PTH regulates your calcium. When your calcium is too high, it can result in brain and heart issues. Hyperparathyroidism is when one or more of your parathyroid glands become inflamed. The parathyroid then produces too much PTH, leading to too much calcium. There is really only one choice with hyperparathyroidism: surgery to have the inflamed parathyroid removed.”

Murphy’s hand rested on her shoulder.

“We will need to do a CAT scan and possibly an ultrasound to see which parathyroid is inflamed. We will discuss the surgery in more detail tomorrow. Do you have any questions?”

Clarke looked to her friends. All of them were drawing a blank. To be honest, none of them had ever had to deal with anything like this. None of them even knew what questions to ask.

“Is there any other option besides surgery?” Clarke finally asked.

“Nothing permanent. Anything else would just be a temporary solution.”

“Okay, thank you. I think…. We will probably have more questions in the morning.”

Dr. Nyko nodded, and waved, before leaving.

The four of them were silent, and Clarke checked her phone once again, hoping for something from Bellamy.

“Maybe you’ll get a wicked scar.” Murphy finally broke the silence.

Monty looked up from his phone, “my mom says that we should get a second opinion.”

Raven nodded, sagely. “None of us know what we are doing, do we?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“I know a guy,” Murphy started, “An anesthesiologist at Brigham and Women’s, he could probably give us some advice.”

No one questioned how Murphy knew an anesthesiologist, but Clarke nodded, silently giving them the go-ahead.

Murphy and Monty both turned to their phones, asking their contacts (anesthesiologist and parents, respectively) and Raven laid down on the bed with Clarke.

Clarke was tired. Apparently, it was another fun hyperparathyroidism side effect. By 11:00, she was falling asleep. Murphy was the first to notice.

“As much fun as it is to be partying at a hospital, unable to look away from Catheter Lady repeatedly pulling out her catheter, it’s time for us to go. And you, young Griffin, need to rest.”

Clarke nodded, sleepily. The goodbyes were hard. Clarke didn’t want to be alone here. But she knew she was going to be asleep soon, and there was no reason for them to be there.

Soon enough, she was alone. Just her and Catheter Lady, as they dubbed her.

She could feel herself losing consciousness, but there was something she needed to do first.

She wrote two texts, first to Luna in Portuguese.

_Hey, it’s Clarke. I hope you’re doing okay – let me know if you need anything at all._

She sent that one, before writing a message to Bellamy.

_Hey Bell. Murphy, Raven, and Monty just left. It was good to have them here – between Murphy and Raven, I don’t think I will ever be alone in the hospital at all. Still, I wish you were here. You’d know what I need. You always know what I need. I need you._

Clarke looked at her text, before deleting it. She tried again.

_Hey Bell. Hope you’re having fun. Murphy, Raven, and Monty just left, but it’s cool. They’ve been great. Hope to talk to you soon! Bye!_

That was fine. She was fine. They were fine.

Clarke sent the message, and promptly fell asleep to the cacophony of chaos in the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back  
> how about that premiere! how about that laCK OF BELLAMY BLAKE?

WEDNESDAY

Consciousness returned to Clarke all at once. She sat up in her bed, disoriented and confused as to where she was. As the previous day’s activities returned to her, Clarke leaned back on the hospital bed, covering her eyes with the crook of her elbow.

Once she felt in control of herself, Clarke used the remote on the bed to put it in a sitting position and grabbed her phone.

God, it was only 6:00 in the morning.

She had messages from Murphy, Raven, and Monty, all letting her know that they’d gotten home safely. Murphy and Raven planned to meet her at the hospital today around 8:30, and, according to Raven, Murphy had made more cookies. She wanted to text them, but she also knew that if they knew she was awake they’d come to the hospital now, and they deserved to get some sleep.

To her disappointment, there was still no word from Bellamy. She was tempted to text him again, but she didn’t know what to tell him – there was no news since last night. She had done what she could to tell him, now it was up to him to show up or not.

Fuck, she hoped he showed up.

Instead of dwelling on the uncontrollable, Clarke decided to make a different difficult call.

Abby Griffin had been working in France so her husband would have access to one of the best colon cancer doctors in the world. It helped that her father’s parents were also in France, and could help when Abby couldn’t. Clarke had been desperately trying not to bother them, hoping that they could just focus on her dad’s recovery.

Part of Clarke didn’t want to tell her parents. They had enough on their plate without her being in the hospital.

But Clarke needed her mom.

With hands more confident than she felt, she called her mom.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” Abby sounded happy, albeit tired. “What are you doing up so early?”

Tears began escaping at the sound of her mom’s voice, and all Clarke could manage to say was “Mom?”

“Clarke? What is it, are you okay?” Abby’s voice had shifted immediately.

“Yea, yes, I’m okay. Mom, I’m in the hospital,” Clarke managed.

“What are your symptoms? How long have you been admitted? Have they made a diagnosis?” Abby had immediately switched to doctor mode. Clarke was really tired of her needing to.

“The doctors think I have something called hyperparathyroidism. I don’t really have symptoms – just tired, I guess. I had a regular blood test and they found a high calcium count. I was admitted yesterday afternoon, Murphy was with my the entire time, and Raven and Monty were there when they could be. I’m okay, really. I just… I’m not allowed to leave until my calcium goes down, and I might need surgery? I don’t know, I’m going to find out more today,” Clarke had begun to cry in earnest and took a big breath, “Mom, I’m so sorry. I know you’re busy with dad, and I didn’t want to put more on you, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t apologize for this. Hyperparathyroidism is scary, but it's also manageable! Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m going to get a plane ticket, and I will be with you in just a few days, I promise.”

“No, no, Mom, it’s okay! Dad needs you, I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you’ll be fine, sweetheart, but I won’t be. If you think I’m gonna let you go through this alone, you don’t know me very well! Your Dad will be able to manage for a few days, I promise. I’m going to look at plane tickets now, okay?”

“Yea, okay.” Clarke felt selfishly relieved.

“Clarke, you’re going to be okay. Hyperparathyroidism is treatable. And next time a doctor comes to talk to you, you call me. I don’t care what time it is, but I want to be there. Okay?”

“Okay, thanks Mom.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now I’ve got to make some arrangements here, but I will be in Boston by this weekend at the latest. I love you so much, Clarke.”

“I love you too, Mom. I’m going to try to get some more sleep before the nurse does her first visit. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Clarke allowed herself a few more minutes to cry, before once again attempting to sleep. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position with the IV before ultimately giving up and watching Queer Eye.

At 7:30, the nurse did her rounds and Clarke decided that it was a suitable time to message her friends. She sent them a quick message, and, like she anticipated, Murphy and Raven responded immediately that they were on their way.

Clarke smiled, relieved, as the nurses moved from her to Catheter Lady.

Desperate to block out the noise of her roommate, Clarke put her headphones and played music while scrolling absently through her phone.

At 8:00, the cavalry arrived.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Murphy threw the door open, swinging his arm out wide. Raven ducked under his arm, snagging the comfortable chair and smirked at Murphy.

“Ooooh fuck you, Reyes, I’ll get you for that.” Murphy turned his attention to Clarke. “And how is our favorite invalid doing today?”

Clarke grinned. “Feeling like an invalid. Lucky to have such good friends to take my mind off of it.”

Murphy smiled and bowed. “Always happy to be of assistance.”

“Don’t complain dear, sickly, Griffin. The good friends brought you a pastry basket from –”

“Tatte?” Clarke cut Raven off. “No complaints from me, hand it over.”

Raven pulled the box out of her bag, and Clarke revelled in the buttery carbs, relieved to have an excuse to not eat hospital food.

Murphy put his bag down as well, and sat in the other empty chair in the room. Raven started unpacking the clothes she had brought for Clarke and Murphy cleared a little cabinet to be used as a pantry.

“How’d you sleep,” Murphy mumbled, a piece of scone sticking out of his mouth.

“Off and on. Had a great moment this morning when I forgot I was in the hospital. I miss that five seconds.” Clarke took another bite of her croissant, before continuing. “Called my mom, she’s coming from Paris, but she won’t be able to get here until the weekend. So it’s just me and Catheter Lady until then!”

At that, Raven and Murphy eyed each other, having a silent conversation. Finally, Raven spoke.

“Actually, you’ll be less alone than you thought. Murphy and I have worked it out, and between the two of us you will never be alone for more than thirty minutes. I’ll take the mornings, Murphy will be here in the afternoons, he’ll leave and I’ll be back around 3:00, and Murphy will get back at 5:00. Monty will be by in the afternoons, if he can. We already worked it out with our jobs; you don’t need to worry about anything. You won’t be alone in this.”

Clarke swallowed. And then she swallowed again. Clarke wasn’t going to say anything, but she hated being here alone. It was too easy for her thoughts to spiral out of control, but she had never even considered asking her friends to do this. She knew they were busy. Murphy owned a pub and Raven worked for a small company that did work for NASA. They had obviously put a lot of thought into this schedule, and were going to be putting a lot on themselves. There weren’t enough words to express how she felt.

“Thank you,” Clarke settled on, “Seriously. I can’t even…. I hope you both know I would do the same for you.” They both nodded. “After this is all over, I’m taking you guys to get so drunk. I… just, thank you.”

Raven smiled, and stood to hug Clarke. While she did this, Murphy darted out of the uncomfortable chair, and into the big leather one. Clarke laughed while he grinned, victorious.

“Oh, who cares, I get the best seat in the house,” Raven gently pushed Clarke, signaling her to move over, “I get the invalid throne.”

Clarke laughed again, rolling her eyes, but moved over nonetheless. Murphy kicked off his shoes, putting his feet on Clarke’s bed.

“So what were you doing before Murphy so rudely interrupted you?”

“Interrupted? Fuck you, Reyes, I put on a show. That is not an interruption.”

Clarke cut off their bickering before it began. “I was just about to kick some ass at Bananagrams.”

Murphy smiled and got up from his seat to sit on the foot of Clarke’s bed, pulling the dinner tray table between them.

“Oh it is on. Don’t expect me to go easy just because you’re crippled. I fully intend to kick your ass.”

“Murphy, you didn’t even like Bananagrams until last month. It takes years to hone this skill.”

“Hey! It’s not that I didn’t like it. I thought it was played differently!”

“And you were too stubborn to actually learn.”

“Yea, so I have a lot of winning to catch up on. Sounds to me like you’re stalling.”

Turns out, neither of them won at Bananagrams. Raven kicked both of their asses during each of the games.

Murphy had taken the morning off. He had a flexible enough schedule, seeing as he owned the bar he worked at. Raven, however, had to leave in the afternoon.

Murphy did his best to keep Clarke occupied, holding her hand during blood drawings without making a fuss about it. Mostly, they just chatted. Not about anything, just in the idle way that friends can talk for hours without actually saying anything.

Clarke couldn’t help her repeated glances at her phone. She was texting consistently with her mom and with Monty, who wasn’t sure if he could visit today but still made his presence felt.

But no Bellamy. Clarke was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She knew that, and she knew her friends knew that. She was doing her best to avoid getting angry or worried about Bellamy, but the silence was wearing on her. She fluctuated from irritation at his absence, to concern about his whereabouts. The emotional whiplash was, frankly, exhausting.

At one point in the early afternoon, a nurse came to check on both Clarke and Catheter Lady. Murphy clocked the blush that spread across Clarke’s face, and the unusual silence.

Murphy smirked, ready to absolutely roast Clarke for her obvious infatuation, but Clarke silenced him with a glare. Murphy put his hands up in surrender, smirking. 

But that didn’t stop him from immediately ratting Clarke out to Raven when she returned. 

“Clarke’s got a crush!” Murphy singsonged, legs draped across the comfortable chair. 

Clarke smacked him with a particularly hard pillow.

Raven took it in stride, plopping down at the foot of Clarke’s bed, before answering.

“Oh, did Bellamy finally get his head out of his ass and text back?”

Clarke’s head whipped towards Raven, mouth open in indignation. “Hey!”

Murphy and Raven ignored her.

“Nope, dumbass still is MIA,” Murphy answered, beginning to pack up his stuff. “But she has a hot nurse. Long hair, very surfer girl. What’s her name, Clarke? Nelly? Nilly? Nooly?”

Clarke threw her blanket over her head, before answering “What kind of name is Nooly? It’s Niylah.”

Raven laughed. “Nurse Niylah. Got a good alliteration thing going on. Did you actually talk to her?”

Clarke stuck her head out, blanket still up to her shoulders. “She told me to watch Sex Education. That’s it. Stop bullying me. I’m sick.” Clarke let out a few pathetic fake coughs.

“Bullying is half of my personality,” Murphy said, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “you’d miss it if I stopped.”

Clarke just smiled at him, fond.

“Alright, ladies. I hate to break your hearts, but I bid you adieu. I’ll be back in a few hours. Reyes, I’ll sneak in some tequila.”

He walked towards the door, but paused in the frame, turning around thoughtfully. “God, I love living in a city. Never need a Designated Driver.” 

And with those impactful final words, Murphy left for the pub.

Raven smiled at Clarke, basking in their love of their friend, before taking the chair Murphy had vacated.

“So. What are we up to today?” Raven asked, throwing her feet up on the bed.

“Oh, Ms. Reyes, we have a very busy schedule. First, we eat bland food. Then, I pee thirty times from the damn liquids they’re pumping into me. Then, I try to watch Queer Eye, and fall asleep because I’m so damned exhausted all the time. It’s a busy day.

Raven grinned, big and toothy. She reached to the drawer next to Clarke’s bed, pulling out a hospital menu and chucking it at Clarke. Clarke had very little hand eye coordination, and the menu went sailing over the bed, well into Catheter Lady’s side of the room. 

Clarke looked at Raven pleadingly, who sighed before going to pick up the menu, unfolding it and covering Clarke’s head with it.

Clarke smiled, taking it off and selecting something to eat, before handing it over to Raven who chose her food before calling in the order.

True to her word, Clarke peed repeatedly throughout the day, and dozed on and off while watching some corny romance film. Raven pulled out her laptop and some well worn notebooks.

They remained in companionable quiet for a few hours as Clarke dozed. 

The doctor came in, telling Clarke more about the surgery and hyperparathyroidism. Raven took diligent notes, but, again, neither really knew what to ask, and the doctor left as suddenly as he came. Clarke couldn’t wait until her mom arrived.

She fell asleep again as Raven put her computer aside, instead aggressively typing on her phone.

At one point, she woke up, dazed, and could overhear Raven talking in hushed tones from the hall.

“I don’t fucking care where you are or what you’re doing, but you’d better get your dumb ass over here as soon as you get this.”

Clarke slipped back into a fitful sleep, and didn’t remember it at all when she woke up next.

“Look who decided to bless us with her consciousness.” Murphy drawled, and Clarke smiled, eyes still shut.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Raven threw herself onto Clarke’s bed, causing Clarke’s eyes to snap open at the surprise. “How is my Calcium Queen doing this fine evening?”

“Oh, you know,” Clarke answered, “full of calcium. Invalid-like. The usual.”

“Alright, that’s it.” Raven abruptly rose off the bed, pulling Clarke’s blanket off with her. “We are going for a walk. Murphy, go get a portable IV stand. We’re going nomad on this hospital.”

Murphy grinned, standing suddenly. He gave Clarke’s foot a tug before going to find the IV stand.

Clarke took his absence as an opportunity to change her shirt, Raven helping her navigate around the IV sticking out of her arm. 

Murphy returned a few minutes later, taking longer than necessary in order to give Clarke the opportunity to get decent. 

“Everyone! Meet the newest member of our merry band of misfits, I call her Crystal!”

Murphy dramatically presented the IV pole before continuing

“Apparently, we aren't supposed to leave the floor. But also, fuck the man, we do what we want. You ready, Griffin? Because we are finding the giftshop, and I am getting you Fourteen mylar balloons. For your calcium level. It hasn’t gone, down, has it?”

“Nope. Fourteen balloons.”

“Actually,” Monty’s voice came from the hall, “thirteen balloons.” He entered the room, a single mylar balloon in his hands. 

Murphy smiled, crossing to Monty and clapping him on the shoulder, “Great! You can show us to the gift shop. Plus, you saved me a few bucks - that fourteenth balloon would have bankrupted me.”

Monty smiled back, before placing the balloon next to Clarke’s vacated bed. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I got this from Mass Gen. It was easier, plus, employee discount.”

Monty went to put his coat and bag with the pile of Raven and Murphy’s stuff. 

“You’re useless, Monty! Useless.”

Monty worked in the research lab at Massachusetts General Hospital. If it weren’t for the immediacy of Clarke’s calcium count, they probably would have ended up there. But life doesn’t work out the easy way very often.

“Monty! I thought you couldn’t come today!” Clarke exclaimed, excited. 

“Yea, well, I moved some stuff around.”

Monty was still hunched over his bag, rooting around for something. Apparently, he found it, because he turned to Clarke, a big smile on his face, and presented a stuffed unicorn. 

Clarke grinned, taking it and placing it on her bed, taking the time to tuck the unicorn under the blanket.

Clarke moved her IV bag from her bed to the stand, and used it as a support while she walked.

The four of them left the cramped room, and the nurses waved at them as they walked down the hallway. Murphy had let them know where they were going when he got the portable IV stand.

“So,” Murphy began, looping his arm lightly through Clarkes - the one without the IV. “What’s that pink and purple monstrosity that Monty got you going to be called?”

“Oh, I know!” Raven looped her arm through Murphy’s, to which he rolled his eyes but allowed, “how about Raven. The unicorn is bound to be a badass genius then.”

Monty went to Clarke’s other side, helping her navigate the IV pole around equipment left in the hallway “Pointy?” he suggested.

“God no,” Murphy decided quickly, and Clarke nodded in agreement.

“How about...” Clarke considered for a minute, “Asclepius?”

Monty, Murphy, and Raven looked at her blankly.

“The Greek God of Medicinal Arts?” Clarke wished Bellamy were there. This was a reference made for him.

“Good God no,” Murphy shook his head. “Do you want that unicorn to be bullied his entire life?”

“Oh, what about Eustace!” Raven threw out.

Monty nodded, sagely, “I like Eustace.”

“Better than Asclepius,” Murphy granted.

“Eustace it is,” Clarke decided, picking up her IV stand and hitting it against the ground like a gavel.

They wandered aimlessly for a bit, ending up at a big window overlooking Boston. Raven took a picture of Clarke, silhouetted by the window, proudly posing with her IV stand.

Finally they found themselves at the gift shop, where they meandered without buying anything.

By that point it was almost 8:00, and Clarke was getting tired. She told this to her friends, who happily returned to her room with her, taking assorted seats around her bed. Monty left soon after they returned, and Raven and Murphy stayed until 10:00, when Clarke found her eyes drooping. 

She was getting comfortable in bed when her phone buzzed. Raven had sent her the picture in front of the window. Smiling, Clarke texted it to her mom. She was probably asleep, but it would be nice for her to wake up to.

Clarke hesitated for a moment, before also sending it to Bellamy. Her fingers danced over the keyboard while she decided what to say. 

_ Hey Bell! Hope you’re good. Monty got me a stuffed unicorn, which I wanted to name Asclepius. The others judged me. Doing well, my calcium hasn’t gone down so I’m stuck here. My mom will be here on Friday. Talk soon, I hope. _

Clarke sent the text, before plugging her phone in and turning off her overhead light. Before she could attempt to sleep, Clarke had an idea. Most likely a bad idea, but an idea nonetheless.

She grabbed her phone again and scrolled to a group text with her friends who had been planning brunch a few weeks back. Bellamy had invited Echo, and added her to the chat. Clarke had never actually saved Echo’s number, she never had a reason to, but she pulled it up now and opened a new message.

_ Hi Echo, it’s Clarke Griffin, Bellamy’s roommate. I’ve been trying to reach him, but he isn't answering. I need to talk to him - could you tell him to give me a call when he gets the chance? _

_ Thanks _

Clarke hit send. Eyes and heart heavy, Clarke fell into a fitful sleep.

THURSDAY

Clarke jerked awake at 5:00 am to the sound of Catheter Lady yelling in what Clarke guessed was Russian. Rubbing her eyes, Clarke dared a look to her left to find two nurses putting restraints on her.

Clarke closed her eyes, weighed down with guilt.

She had so many people who loved her and were there to keep her company, and Catheter Lady was alone, with no one who even spoke the same language as her. 

In an attempt to drown out her own thoughts, Clarke put in her headphones and tried to get a few more hours of sleep.

She woke up a few hours later with a headache. She told the nurse this when she came to switch her IV bags, and was given some ibuprofen.

Once her headache dulled, Clarke dared to open her eyes, and look at Catheter Lady. She was still in restraints, and was sleeping in a position that looked uncomfortable. 

Clarke shut her eyes, before grabbing her phone. Her mom had responded to the text from the previous day with a few heart emojis that Clarke had taught her how to use last Christmas.

Nothing from Bellamy or Echo.

Clarke tried not to let herself get disheartened, instead texting Raven to bring her pancakes and orange juice.

Raven’s hands were full as she kicked the propped door fully open with her good leg. 

She smiled that full toothed megawatt smile, plopping her bag down in the corner of the room, and putting Clarke’s breakfast on the bedside table before taking her jacket off.

“Good morning, sicko. How are we feeling today?” Raven eased herself into the comfortable chair, and while she let no pain show on her face, Clarke knew her well enough to realize her leg was giving her trouble.

Clarke didn’t comment on it.

“I’m alright, had some difficulty sleeping. Our friend here,” she nodded at Catheter Lady, who was still asleep, “had to be restrained. Commotion woke me up. The whole thing was pretty sad.”

Raven nodded in understanding, gently propping her leg up on Clarke’s bed.

Clarke pulled the dinner tray table over her lap, and dug into her pancakes. Raven pulled out her laptop and continued to work. 

They chatted on and off, Raven occasionally doing work and occasionally helping Clarke research insurance. 

Raven had ended up in Clarke’s bed with her by the late morning, both pouring over Clarke’s computer, when visitors arrived for Catheter Lady.

A middle aged man and woman who looked similar enough to be siblings walked in. Both were well-dressed and hurried. They didn’t spare Clarke and Raven a glance, immediately going to Catheter Lady, and speaking rapid fire Russian. 

When the man noticed the restraints, he angrily went to talk to the nurse, and Clarke figured that they were Catheter Lady’s children. 

Raven and Clarke pretended to continue what they were doing, but both were focused on the scene unfolding besides them. Catheter Lady’s children didn’t seem to be particularly nice to her. Her son seemed indignant about the restraints, but it appeared to be more about the principle of the matter as opposed to any concern regarding his mother’s wellbeing. 

By the time they left, Catheter Lady seemed demoralized, and Clarke’s heart ached.

Soon after, Raven started packing up her stuff. Murphy wasn’t there yet, but Clarke could manage alone for twenty minutes, which was exactly what she told Raven when she noticed the torn look on her friend’s face.

Feeling her stomach grumble, Clarke quickly texted Murphy to pick her up some lunch on his way. He texted back “anything for the Princess,” which made Clarke smile.

Without conscious thought, Clarke found her fingers hovering over Bellamy’s name in her phone again. She was about to call when she heard a wail from Catheter Lady, who had moved awkwardly in her restraints in an attempt to pull out her catheter. Clarke leapt to her feet, phone forgotten in her bed, pulling her IV stand to the nurses station for help.

The nurses rushed to Catheter Lady’s bed, and Clarke trailed behind, stopping awkwardly at the door.

“Watcha looking at,” Clarke startled at the voice, slapping Murphy’s shoulder as she turned around.

He thrust out his arm, offering food as an apology. Clarke took it gratefully, before leading him to the family room down the hall, so they could give Catheter Lady some privacy.

They chatted idly as they ate, Murphy telling Clarke about the latest happenings at the pub, and the brawl he broke up between day drinkers this morning. He apparently didn't have to leave this afternoon, having gotten his co-owner to cover for him at the pub.

“Oh,” Murphy said, mouth full. He finished chewing before continuing. “Emori is stopping by today, if that’s alright. She said, and I quote, that she ‘figures you could use a break from the lunatics’ end quote.”

Clarke smiled. She wasn’t particularly close to Emori, but they saw each other often enough, and Clarke liked her. She had been dating Murphy for years now, and she felt like they were close by extension. Close-in-law, if that made sense.

“Of course, the more the merrier.” Clarke took another bite, when a thought came to her, “I bet she could talk to Catheter Lady!”

Emori was fluent in Russian, having often visited family in Moscow.

“That’s an idea,” said Murphy, getting that devious look in his eye he got whenever he plotted.

Emori showed up an hour later, getting Murphy to stand up to peck her cheek before promptly stealing the comfortable seat from him.

Clarke laughed as Murphy scoffed.

“Betrayed by the love of my life. Well, I have a solution,” Murphy looked pleased with himself as he sat on Emori’s lap. Emori promptly pushed him off.

Murphy looked at Emori as he made himself comfortable at her feet, even more in love if that were possible.

“So, Clarke, Murphy tells me your blood is 80% milk.”

Clarke laughed before giving Emori a shortened version of what was going on. Emori listened attentively, steadfastly ignoring Murphy’s repeated attempts to get attention.

As they caught up, Clarke was reminded of why she liked Emori so much. She was fun and scrappy and took no shit from Murphy. She could verbally spar on the same level as Clarke, Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy, and she wasn't afraid of low blows. Her blunt nature combined with her aptitude for empathy made her a good listener, and she always had wild stories from her job at a pawn shop. 

Eventually, Emori went to sit by Catheter Lady. They spoke to each other in hushed tones for a few minutes, and Catheter Lady was smiling by the time Emori returned to Clarke’s side of the room.

Emori didn’t say anything, just casually reclaimed her seat.

“Well?!” Murphy asked, abruptly.

“She’s nice. Her name is Dina. Has an interesting immigration story. Gave me a good recipe for Pelmeni.”

Murphy and Clarke looked at each other. Simultaneously, they started laughing, before grilling Emori for more details.

Raven showed up in the mid afternoon, and didn’t hesitate before kicking off her shoes and climbing on the bed with Clarke.

They were just getting comfortable when a nurse came in to take Clarke for an ultrasound. Luckily for Clarke, it wasn’t Niylah, who Murphy and Raven just called Hot Nurse. Her friends were, regrettably, the type of people who would have no shame in calling the woman that to her face. This one explained to them that the doctor still wanted to figure out which parathyroid gland was inflamed, and that they hadn’t gotten a good enough view in the x-ray photos. 

Raven adjusted so Clarke could get out of bed, and the nurse helped her detangle her IV. 

“Raven, could you pass me my slippers and my phone.” 

“Sorry, Clarke,” the nurse cut in. “You should probably leave your phone here.”

“Yea, of course. Raven, I’m expecting a call from my mom, could you answer?”

“Of course. Now go find out the sex of your throat baby.”

Murphy snorted, and Emori rolled her eyes. Clarke just smiled, before following the nurse to the ultrasound.

When she returned, Murphy and Raven were talking angrily. At first she thought they were mad at each other, which was pretty common, but when she could pick up what they were saying, she stopped walking.

“If you want to fucking know what’s going on, maybe you should actually answer your phone!” Murphy was saying, still hushed in respect of the hospital.

“Bellamy,” Raven was calmer, but the hostility was still evident in her voice, “it’s not our place to tell you. She’ll be back any minute, just chill.”

Clarke could hear a muffled, angry voice over speaker phone.

Clarke started walking quickly, startling the nurse. She quickly turned into her room, extending her hand for the phone. Raven handed it to her, and Clarke turned it off speaker phone, holding it to her chest. It was an unsaved number, probably Echo’s. 

“Out,” she told the others. They trailed from the room, leaving their bags behind. Raven squeezed Clarke’s hand before she left. Clarke sat back on the bed as the nurse switched her IV bag out for a new one. 

Clarke took a deep breath before bringing the phone to her ear.

“Bellamy?”

“Clarke! Thank God. Where the hell have you been?”

Clarke saw red.

“Where have  _ I _ been? Bell, where have  _ you  _ been? I’ve been in the hospital, needing my best friend, who didn’t tell me where he was going or how to reach him.”

“You’re in the hospital?!” Bellamy’s voice sounded choked, and frantic, and sad.

The fight instantly left Clarke, and she was just glad to hear his voice.

“I’m fine, Bell. I mean, I’m not, but I will be. I have something called hyperparathyroidism. It means I have too much calcium in my blood, which could have some side effects involving my brain and heart. I’m going to need surgery.”

“I should be there - Fuck, I need to get an earlier flight… Fuck!”

“Flight - Bell, where are you?” 

“I’m in… God, I’m in Canada. Vancouver, with Echo’s family. Data is too expensive so I turned my phone off… Fuck, Clarke, I’m so sorry. I should be there.”

“It’s okay, Bellamy. I mean, it's not, but it wasn't intentional. You would have been here if you’d known.”

“You called three times, didn’t you?”

Clarke paused, knowing the response her answer would elicit. “It’s okay, Bellamy.”

“No, it’s not okay! Three calls means emergency. I should've gotten the sim card. Fuck! I’m going to reschedule my flight to earlier today - I will be back in Boston tonight, I’m, God, I need to be there.”

“Earlier - Bell when is your original flight?”

“Tonight - but we’re spending the night in Dallas for our layover. I can get an earlier flight, a nonstop one, and get there tonight. I’m going to be there tonight.”   
“Bellamy, breathe. Take your original flight. I’m okay. I’ve gotten used to this - I have a whole schedule. Murphy and Raven are here, and my mom will be here tomorrow. It’s okay if you come tomorrow.”

“It’s not, Clarke, it’s not okay! I should have been there with you the first day. You shouldn't have had to get used to this. Wait, how long have you been in the hospital?”

Clarke closed her eyes. “This is my third day.”

“I should be there - I need to be there, I’m sorry Clarke, we’re in this together.”

“Bellamy, if you got here tonight I’d already be asleep - this whole thing makes me exhausted. Stick to the plan. It’ll be okay. I promise I won't croak between now and then.”

“Don’t even joke,” he deadpanned. Bellamy was silent for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Plus, I have to assume that you’re going to turn your data on now, right?” Bellamy gave a sound of confirmation. “So, now I’ll be able to talk to you. It’s okay. Just, try to relax.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve never relaxed in my life, but it's a nice dream,” Clarke laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bell, and we’ll talk all day. Go pack, because I know you haven’t started.” 

She could all but see his smile through the phone.

“Yea, okay. I am sorry, Clarke.”

She smiled through the lump in her throat, before nodding, “I know.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early. I love you, Clarke.”

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat, the way it always did when he said that. 

“You too,” she choked out, before finally ending the call.

Bellamy had a weird relationship with the words “I love you.” He was stingy with who he gave them too. Always cautious, never wanting to give them to the wrong person. But once he said it, he meant it, and he made sure you knew it. Clarke hadn’t minded until she realized that she loved him too, just not in the same way. Since then, the words felt like lead on her tongue, too much to handle and not enough to express the depth of her feelings.

She texted Raven that they could come back, and her friends returned to her room. 

They gave her space, knowing she needed it. But she felt at ease, she felt calm and relaxed, as she joined in the conversation with her friends.

Tomorrow she’d see her mom. Tomorrow she’d see Bellamy. Tonight she could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi   
> i think this will have 1-2 more chapters. TBD. come yell at me on tumblr moonshoesreyes.tumblr.com. Also, on tumblr you will find the actual picture we took of my friend with her IV pole, Crystal, in front of the window!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'sup homies

FRIDAY

Bellamy remained true to his word. He had been using WhatsApp, the downloading of which was sure to have been excruciating to a luddite like him, so that he could text her throughout the day.

According to Bellamy, him accompanying Echo on her trip to Vancouver had been impulsive - they had been hanging out at Bellamy and Clarke’s apartment earlier in the week when Echo suggested he join her. Bellamy’s phone had been dead, as it often was, so he had left a note on the kitchen counter for Clarke to find. Unfortunately, Clarke had been staying at Murphy and Raven’s in order to avoid the happy couple, so she didn’t see it. Everything had an explanation, and Clarke couldn’t hold it against him.

The same could not be said for Murphy. While Raven had been exasperated but understanding, Murphy had been downright pissed on Clarke’s behalf.

Which is how Clarke found Murphy late Friday morning. Raven had come and left and it was Murphy’s turn to distract Clarke, but his ire kept bringing the conversation back to Bellamy. He had been pacing while delivering scathing rants.

Clarke had amusedly filmed a bit of one and discretely messaged it to Bell, who found the reaction completely reasonable.

“-- He should have fucking charged his phone, the abominable prick. God, Clarke, how are you okay with this?” Murphy asked, stopping his stream of insults and actually looking at her for the first time in minutes.

“Oh, am I actually supposed to answer?” Murphy gave her a dry, beseeching look that Clarke responded to with a toothy smile. 

“I’m okay with this because it was an accident. He would have been here if he could. Plus, I know he is beating himself up more than I ever could.” 

Murphy looked at her, searching for something in her expression. When he was satisfied, he decompressed a bit, collapsing into the seat next to Clarke’s bed.

“Yea, I know. Doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit for it.”

“No, Murphy. No fighting in Casa de Clarke and Catheter Lady. Cardinal rule.”

“Yea, whatever.” Murphy mumbled into his hand, nearly unintelligible. 

“Ah, ah, ah. What was that?” Clarke reprimanded.

“Fine, yes Mom. I will be civil.” Murphy said, clearly this time.

Clarke patted his cheek, “now that's a good boy. Now go get your mother her reading glasses, I need to check stonks.” 

“Stonks. Stale memeage. You’re so fucking ancient, Griffin. And you don’t have reading glasses, you loser,” Murphy griped, but he was smirking. 

Somehow, the morning descended into a ripped up napkin ball fight, with Clarke using her blankets as a shield, and Murphy squeezing himself behind the big leather chair.

Clarke had stood up and was laughing, her medical tray full of ammo that she was about to pour behind the chair.

“Am I interrupting?”

At her mother’s voice, Murphy stood up and Clarke immediately sobered. Something about talking to a parent just drags you back to childhood, and when Clarke saw her mom, her eyes immediately filled with tears, and she felt like a kid who scraped her knee again.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Abby and Clarke met in a hug, both crying, both scared. 

While they reunited, Murphy dutifully cleaned up the napkin bits, uncharacteristically and respectfully quiet.

When they separated, Abby put her bag on the ground and moved her suitcase to the side of the room, before sweeping over to Murphy where he was cleaning up by the bed and engulfing him in a hug.

Clarke smiled at the two of them, tears still in her eyes as Murphy perplexedly kept readjusting his hand placement, unsure how to reciprocate.

Murphy had met Abby a few times, none of which had gone particularly well. He hadn’t made a _bad_ impression, per se, but Abby had always had a very strict idea of who Clarke should be hanging out with. She loved Raven, but otherwise Clarke’s friends didn’t fit the bill. And Murphy had the dubious honor of earning the majority of her ire. Bellamy, as a teacher, Abby could swallow; she wasn’t fond of Monty’s side job owning a dispensary, but liked the hospital aspect well enough; however, she had never been able to see past the bartender that Murphy started off as, which is what made her newfound affection so surprising. 

Murphy finally landed on awkwardly patting Abby on the back with one hand while the other hung twitching at his side, which lasted a hilarious ten seconds before Abby pulled away.

However, she didn't let go. Instead, Abby kept her hands on Murphy’s arms, and looked him in the eyes.

“Thank you, John. You were here when I couldn’t be, and there is no way to adequately say thank you, but thank you.”

Murphy rubbed his neck, uncomfortable. “Of course, Mrs. Griffin. I guess I kind of like your daughter, want to keep her around and all that.”

Abby smiled, seeing through his tension, “Please, call me Abby.”

“Only if you call me Murphy. Only my girlfriend calls me John.”

“Sounds like a deal, Murphy.”

Abby turned to where Clarke was standing by the foot of her bed, with an obnoxious smile on her face due to Murphy’s discomfort.

“Clarke, get in bed! What are you doing?” Abby asked, incredulous.

Chastened, but still laughing, Clarke returned to her bed. Murphy insisted Abby take the comfortable chair, while he took one of the stiff waiting room chairs that they had dragged in on Clarke’s first day.

“So,” Abby looked from Clarke, to Murphy, and back to Clarke. “Tell me everything. What’s your latest calcium count? Has it gone down at all? If so, they should take you off the IV and see if it stays down. What about your PTH count? It’s likely that surgery will be necessary, unfortunately. How many of the glands are inflamed? Do you have an image? I’d like to see it. If they’re all inflamed, they’ll have to take out three and a half of the fourth. When do they think they’ll get you to the OR?” 

Abby continued with her questions as Murphy and Clarke exchanged looks. 

Silently, Clarke begged Murphy to answer. He resisted at first, shaking his head slightly in his desire to not be the bearer of bad news to a woman who tended to disapprove of everything he said, but quickly acquiesced when Clarke widened her eyes, stuck out her bottom lip, and gave a feeble, fake cough.

While Murphy walked through everything they knew and promised that the Doctor would answer anything they couldn’t, Clarke checked her phone.

Bellamy had taken off at 10 AM, and was set to land around 2 PM in Boston. It was now 1:00, and Clarke missed the constant texts they had maintained since they’d finally connected. 

Clarke put her phone down, tuning back into the conversation just in time to hear Murphy fill Abby in on Clarke’s infatuation with Hot Nurse.

Abby smiled, eyebrows raising as she looked towards a blushing Clarke.

“Dammit Murphy,” Clarke muttered. He just smirked, sitting back in his seat. “Her name is Niylah, and I think she’s pretty; Murphy is blowing it entirely out of proportion.”

“That’s true, her heart is taken by another” Clarke’s head snapped to Murphy, but he continued, “Clarke fancies dearest Bellamy Blake.”

“Still?” Abby asked, crossing her legs.

“Okay, with the still, it is a personal - wait.” Her mother’s words caught up to Clarke. “You knew?”

“Clarke, I’m your mother, of course I knew. I’ve known since he came with you to visit last summer.”

Murphy laughed, sharply, and whipped out his phone, likely to text Raven of the development.

Clarke threw her hands up, exasperated. “Did everyone know before me?” 

Abby and Murphy looked to each other, bonding in their amusement, before turning back to her.

“Yes,” they said, in unison.

Clarke covered her face with a pillow.

“Stop teaming up on me.”

Someone grabbed the pillow from Clarke, and when she opened her eyes, Murphy’s face was right above her own.

Clarke lightly smacked him with no real force behind it.

From her right, Clarke could hear her mom laughing.

The three chatted, and at 1:45, Clarke got a text that Bellamy had landed early. He let her know that he would be getting a cab straight to the hospital, and would arrive around 2:30.

When Clarke nonchalantly asked if that meant Echo was coming, all Bellamy said was that Echo wasn’t with him.

Before Clarke could ask any follow up questions, Bellamy informed her that he was getting off the plane and that he’d let her know when he was on his way.

Sighing, Clarke put her phone down. Her mom had busied herself on her computer while Murphy started packing up his things.

“Heading out?” Clarke asked him, secretly optimistic. She loved Murphy, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would make it difficult if he was here when Bell arrived, even if it wasn't overt.

“Yea, figure I should try to get to work early now that your mom’s here. Don’t miss me too much, Griffin. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Murphy crossed to Clarke, giving her a one armed hug. Clarke smiled, returning it wholeheartedly. 

Murphy gave Abby an awkward wave, before turning and heading towards the door. He gave one sweeping bow before leaving the hospital room.

Abby turned to Clarke. “He’s a character.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“You won’t hear me arguing. Not anymore. I got him and Raven boxes of chocolate - not from anywhere nice, just some shop in Charles De-Gaulle, I hope they won’t mind… I’d like us all to go out for dinner after this is over. You, me, Murphy, Raven. Bring Monty and Emori too.”

“Bellamy?” Clarke asked, mildly abashed.

Abby just smiled, knowingly. “Of course.”

Clarke cracked a small grin, laying back in her bed. Abby stared at her for a moment before moving her computer to the counter and getting up to join Clarke on the bed.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? I don’t think I have any idea what's going on in your life, and your dad says the same. It feels like we haven't talked in months.”

“You’re busy, Mom, I didn’t want to bug you.”

“Oh, Clarke, you never bug us. Well, that's not necessarily true, but we are never too busy for you. Let’s start with Bellamy - what’s happening with him?”

“It’s complicated, Mom.” 

Abby just waited, saying nothing. She looked at Clarke the way she would whenever Clarke was trying to hide something as a kid. That look made Clarke feel like her mom was x-raying her, seeing into her very soul. Clarke didn’t stay silent long.

“He, uh, has a girlfriend. Echo. She’s nice. I didn't realize that I was jealous until Murphy pointed it out to me. And then I couldn't unsee it. So I’ve mostly been avoiding him and staying with Murphy and Raven. And then I got this annoying cold and now I’m in the hospital! So, what's new with you, mom?”

“Clarke, stop. That’s a lot to deal with. Are you going to talk to him about it?”

“No, I can’t. It sounds fucking cliche - sorry, fricking - but I can’t lose him. I’ve never felt as understood by anyone as I do with Bellamy. I won’t jeopardize that for something I’m not sure he feels too. He’s too important to me. I’m okay if nothing changes, as long as I still get to be his friend.”

“But what if he does feel the same?”

Before Clarke could even think about answering, Raven gifted them with her presence, and Clarke had never been more grateful.

“Mama Griff! You’re here!”

Abby got up to hug Raven. Raven had often found herself at the Griffin house during college breaks. She never wanted to go to her own house, and the Griffins lived close enough to campus that Raven never had to find money for a plane ticket. Raven and Abby had formed a unique bond during that time, one that Clarke didn’t entirely understand. Their relationship was largely independent of Clarke at this point, but she didn’t mind. Abby acted as a mother when Raven desperately needed one, and Clarke was more than happy to share. She considered Raven’s mother’s neglect and abuse to be a great injustice - someone as absolutely excellent as Raven Reyes deserved everything the world had to offer. No one deserved what Raven got. But Raven kicked ass despite who raised her.

“Hey sick Griff, how goes the blood today?” Raven asked, moving away from Abby to sit on the foot of Clarke’s bed. Abby reclaimed the comfortable chair.

“Ah, ya know. Bloody. The usual.”

“We,” Abby gave a pointed look to Clarke, “were just discussing my daughter’s love life. Or desire for one.”

Raven barked out a laugh. “Yea, good luck with that Mama G. I’ve been trying to crack that nut for months, no luck. And I’m literally a rocket scientist.”

“Yes, well I’m literally a brain surgeon. Maybe I can convince the surgeons to let me have a poke around that head of hers, see what's really going on.”

“Very funny mom. Can we change the subject, I really don't want to talk about --” but Clarke stopped talking. Standing in the door frame, snow melting in his hair, was “Bellamy.”

He stood there, frozen. It wasn’t like movies or literature when their eyes met - it wasn’t as though time stood still and only Clarke and Bellamy existed in that moment. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Everything crystallized when Clarke saw Bellamy. As though she had been looking through binoculars and she finally got them to focus on her target. When Clarke looked at Bellamy, she felt as though she decompressed. As though she hadn’t been breathing well, and she hadn’t even noticed, but now she was having no trouble at all.

But instead of expressing any of that, Clarke just said “hi.”

“Raven,” Clarke heard her mom say, “how about we go see what's available in the cafeteria. I haven’t had a meal since Paris.”

Clarke guessed that Raven nodded because the two of them left the room, Raven squeezing Bellamy’s hand as she walked by.

Bellamy still wasn’t moving. 

Clarke grabbed Crystal as she climbed from her bed. Luckily, Clarke wasn’t wearing a hospital gown; instead she looked as though they could be lounging on the sofa, bickering about whether or not The Newsroom would actually be good if made in the current news cycle. 

Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s small duffel bag and tucked it next to her mom’s suitcase. Next, she took Bellamy’s hand, and lightly tugged. He followed easily as she led him to the foot of the bed, sitting him down, before returning the IV bag to Crystal and taking her own seat. 

“I’m okay, Bellamy.”

A flurry of emotion raced across Bellamy’s face. It was as though his brain had frozen when he entered the room, and all of the emotions he meant to feel suddenly returned to him all at once. 

Finally, he knitted his eyebrows and otherwise schooled his face. 

“I know,” was what he settled on saying. “I know you can do anything, and do it on your own. But you shouldn’t have to. You don’t need to bear the big things alone. And,” he continued speaking before Clarke could cut him off “I know you weren’t alone. But, if it were me in your shoes, I’d want you to be there. Not because I needed you, but because it’s easier when you’re with me. You’re my best friend, Clarke Griffin, and I want to be there for you, too. So I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have been here, and I should have tried harder to let you know before I left.”

“Odds are you’d never be in my shoes. Hyperparathyroidism is significantly more common in women than it is in men.” Clarke attempted to lighten the mood, then she thought for a moment. “Although, it is primarily found in older women, so maybe we defy the odds, you and me.”

Bellamy laughed a little, still hesitant, before he kicked off his shoes, tucking his feet under the blanket.

“Ew. Airplane germs.” He just pulled the blanket up further on his legs, so Clarke continued, “You know there is a shower in there,” she nodded to the bathroom in the corner. “It doesn’t lock, and Catheter Lady has a pension for peeking, but it might be worth the risk.”

“Maybe that’s just what I need to boost my confidence. Octavia is always telling me to believe in myself, and what strokes the ego more than adoring fans?”

Clarke laughed, but sobered quickly, saying “I do forgive you, Bell. I will always forgive you. And I don’t want you to feel guilty, but I did and do want you here, always. You’re my best friend, too. You’re one of the most important people in the world to me, and I won't lie and say that it wouldn’t have helped if you were here. But you’re here now, and there's more hard stuff to come, so buckle up. Your work is just beginning.”

Bellamy smiled, but his voice was serious. “So, tell me what WebMD missed about hyperparathyroidism.” 

Raven and Abby returned while Clarke was in the middle of explaining what the parathyroid glands did. Abby, understanding infinitely more about the disease than Clarke, took over the explanation after a polite greeting. Raven shoved Bellamy over until he was in the middle of the bed and she could sit on the foot of the bed. 

When the explanation finished, Bellamy did grab extra clothes from his duffel and change in the bathroom. Shortly after he returned the doctor came by for rounds, and Abby assaulted the medical professional with a barrage of questions. Bellamy grabbed a notebook from his backpack, and started taking notes. Raven, who was distracting Clarke from the statistics and facts they’d heard many times, started playing war with a twist. Whenever either of them lost with a low card to a high card, they made a tally for that person. The loser would have to trick Murphy into doing their tallied number in shots when they got out of the hospital.

When the doctor finally left, Raven put the cards down, proclaimed that they would combine their tallies and work together to manipulate Murphy, and demanded that Bellamy and Abby join them in Bananagrams.

According to Raven, she was looking forward to a real challenge, which Clarke took offense to.

Bellamy and Raven sat on either side of the foot of the bed, and the tray table was between them and Clarke. Abby sat in a chair to the side of the bed, and Clarke extended her legs so her feet were tucked under Bellamy. He didn’t say anything, but she saw him smile when she did it.

Bellamy, Raven, and Abby were some of the smartest people she knew, and Clarke quickly bowed out after the first game.

Wanting to leave on a high note, Abby left the room after she won the next game. She grabbed her phone, heading to the hallway to call to update various family members.

What followed was one of the most cut throat and vicious games of Bananagrams that Clarke had ever witnessed. At one point she was livestreaming on Instagram, with a good two dozen dedicated viewers. Eventually, the game got too intense and Clarke _accidentally_ kicked up her knee, ruining the board.

Raven muttered angrily to herself while she cleaned up the tiles, and Clarke and Bellamy decided to have a thumb war. When Raven finished getting the tiles into the banana bag, she demanded to fight the winner, so Clarke called a cease fire on the thumb war. Cold turkey was the best and only solution to Raven’s aggressive streak.

Instead, they used a skill they had learned in Bellamy’s miniscule Freshman dorm room to jenga the three of them and a laptop onto a small bed, put on a John Mulaney special, and lounge on each other. 

Bellamy was all nerves when, at one point, blood seemed to be coming from her arm through the IV tube. He ruined a perfectly good friend pile to go to the nurses’ station and demand attention, too impatient to wait for them to respond to the call button. He crossed his arms, carrying way too much tension in his shoulders, looking over the nurse as she worked. Unfortunately for Clarke, it was Niylah. Raven kept poking Clarke and wiggling her eyebrows. Luckily, Bellamy was much to focused on the blood to notice.

Once everything was sorted, Raven and Clarke tried to coax him back onto the bed, but he steadfastly insisted he take one of the uncomfortable chairs, leaving the big leather one for Abby. 

Raven and Clarke shrugged as he pulled out a book, and they readjusted as they unpaused the special.

Abby came back and immediately took a picture of Raven and Clarke squeezed impressively comfortably on the small hospital bed.

Clarke didn’t miss Bellamy’s quiet request for Abby to send him the picture. 

A few hours later, both Abby and Raven had fallen asleep. Clarke had ended up on the foot of the bed, moving Crystal with her, to give Raven more space to sleep. Clarke’s head was propped on a pillow over the footboard, so her and Raven were head to toe, both lying down.

“Hey, Bellamy?”

“Hey, Clarke?” He said, matching her whisper and inserting his bookmark to save his place before closing his book. Something had been gnawing at Clarke, and she didn't think it was out of the realm of friendship to ask it.

“I have a question for you.”

Bellamy pushed from the chair, but instead of standing up, he slid down so that he was sitting on the floor, eye to eye with Clarke.

“You said that you and Echo were going to stay in Dallas for the layover, but then you said she didn't come with you. What happened?”

Bellamy made a face, and appeared to be choosing his words carefully before he spoke. 

“Echo dumped me, right before I left. She chose to spend the rest of her break with her family in Canada.”

“Oh, Bell. I’m so sorry.” And she was. Clarke wanted him to be happy, even if that wasn’t with her. He didn’t deserve to be dumped.

“I think it was for the best, really. I, uh, I think she isn’t what I really wanted, you know?”

“I thought you were happy?”

“I was! Or, I thought I was. I don’t know what to tell you, Clarke. Things change. And other things don't, and when you realize that, a lot of stuff falls into place.”

Clarke was reading too much into things. She had to be. She wanted there to be a look in his eye, so that's why she was seeing one. There was no other explanation. 

Bellamy’s mouth opened and closed twice before he managed to get any words out. 

“Clarke--”

“SUP ASSHOLES and Mrs. Griffin!” John ‘I love big entrances at inopportune moments’ Murphy shouted in greeting, throwing the door open and startling Raven and Abby awake and Clarke and Bellamy apart.

Murphy dropped his bag under one of the chairs, kicked off his shoes, and sat directly in the center of the bed, on Clarke and Raven’s legs, carefully maneuvering so no weight landed on Raven’s bad one.

The night went on. Murphy had brought food from the pub that they all feasted on, and he even brought an extra serving of fries, put it next to Catheter Lady, and repeated a phrase to her in Russian that Emori surely taught him.

Catheter Lady smiled, and said something in rapid fire that Murphy had no hope of deciphering, so he just raised his hands and backed away slowly, rejoining Raven and Clarke on the bed.

Eventually, Clarke’s eyes grew heavy, and Abby decided that it was time for everyone to go home. They said their goodbyes and Bellamy was only persuaded to leave when Clarke demanded he go home and shower, because he smelled.

Falling asleep felt easier that night than it had the past few days.

SATURDAY

Clarke opened her eyes the next morning to see orange juice in her favorite plastic tumbler right in front of her. She blinked, confused, and grabbed her phone, to see that it was only 7:30 in the morning. Clarke rubbed her eyes and sat up to find a sleeping Bellamy Blake sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs close to the foot of her bed, a mug of coffee on the counter behind him, and an open book splayed out on his chest. On the counter next to him, sat a to-go box from Tatte. 

Clarke smiled and maneuvered Crystal so that she could go to the bathroom, brush her teeth, and change.

Bellamy was waking up when she returned.

“Morning,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

“Morning,” his voice was still thick with sleep.

“You’re here early.” Clarke noted, grabbing the Tatte box.

“Couldn’t sleep, plus I didn’t want you to be alone for too long. Don’t worry, I showered last night.”

Clarke could only smile, and offer him a scone.

“Oh! Have you met Crystal?”

Bellamy looked confused, so Clarke gestured to the pole as she moved her IV bag from the portable pole to the attachment on the bed. 

“Murphy wanted her to have a stripper name, since she’s a pole, get it? So we named her Crystal. Not that there's anything wrong with being a stripper or being named Crystal. But, you know Murphy.”

“That I do. How’d you sleep?”

Clarke swallowed a big piece of chocolate croissant before answering.

“Good. Better than usual. I always wake a few times in the night, either because of the noise or because of Crystal.”

“How does Crystal wake you up?”

“It’s not her as much as the IV bag. The reason they have me on an IV is because you lose calcium when you pee, so they’re pumping me full of fluids so I can pee as much as possible. There was a day when they took me off the IV, to see if my calcium would stay down. It didn't, but if it had I would have been able to go home before the surgery.”

“And by home do you mean our apartment, or Murphy and Raven’s?”

Clarke looked at the bread basket, abashed. “You noticed that, did you?”

Bellamy just nodded. She couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“It could be hard to focus at the apartment, with the extra person and extra movement around. Extra activities you two were doing.”

Bellamy blushed, rubbing the back of his head. “You could have told me - we would’ve gone to her apartment.”

“Yea, but I wanted to be the cool roommate. Plus, I didn’t want to be in the way.”

Bellamy sobered “It’s your apartment and you’re my best friend. You’re never in the way.”

Clarke smiled and bobbed her head, taking another bite of croissant. Bellamy reached for a croissant from the basket, but Clarke snagged it first to save for her mom.

Bellamy gave her a look as if to say, _no one but you._

Abby strolled in at 8:30, looking more casual than Clarke had seen her in a long time, and Murphy and Raven showed up later than usual, at 10:30, having been assured that with it being the weekend and extra people being available, they could take the opportunity to sleep in. 

In the early afternoon, a familiar face came to see Clarke.

“Good morning Clarke! And Clarke’s friends and family. I am Doctor Eric Jackson, and I will be your surgeon today. Well, not today, Tuesday. And, no need to worry, I was trained by the best.” 

With that, Clarke and Abby stood up, taking turns hugging Jackson. 

Jackson turned to Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy. “Abby trained me, when I was considering neuro instead of endocrine. Best teacher I ever had. Plus, Clarke made the best cookies and she’d always bring them to the hospital.” 

“My secret, Jacks,” Clarke whispered conspiratorially, “they were store bought.”

Clarke hadn’t heard that Jackson had moved to Boston, much less worked at Beth Israel. He was close enough that Clarke and Abby both trusted him implicitly, but not so close that it would impede his ability to operate on Clarke.

Jackson asked Raven, Murphy, and Bellamy for their names, and Clarke couldn't help but notice that Bellamy seemed to puff his chest out a bit more than normal. 

After introductions, Jackson started going over the details and risks of the surgery, all of which seemed relatively basic. Granted, Clarke had little to compare it to, but still. Like the day before, Bellamy got out his leather bound notebook and took diligent notes, all signs of his possessive nonsense washed away by his concern.

Apparently, Clarke would have a scar. A small line along a crease in her neck, at the most two inches wide. It would mostly fade, but it was likely it would never fully go away. Also, her voice could potentially become husky, which was concerning. Murphy told her she’d sound sexy.

The X-ray, ultrasound, and the cat scan hadn’t managed to get a good picture of all four parathyroid glands, so the working theory was that they were all inflamed. They wouldn’t know until they actually saw, but if they were all inflamed, the surgeon would take out three and a half, and that half would end up over compensating and continue to produce too much PTH, at least until it adjusted, which would be a fun thing that Bellamy was sure to monitor. If the doctor actually took too much of the last gland, however, Clarke would not produce enough PTH to function and would have to take supplements for the rest of her life. Jackson assured them that the chances of that were very small.

Abby asked a bunch of questions with medical jargon that Raven, Murphy, and Clarke had no intention of deciphering, but Bellamy assiduously jotted down words to research later. Nerd.

Clarke was once again falling asleep towards the end of Jackson’s speech, which Bellamy clocked right away. Without second thought, he tucked his leather notebook in the back pocket of his jeans, and wrestled away the pillow that Murphy had commandeered to tuck back under her head.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Raven, Murphy, and Bellamy all went out for lunch with money from Abby as a thank you. They returned after an hour and played cards with Clarke, chatted, worked, and kept themselves busy when she needed to nap. 

This entire situation was awful, and in no way was Clarke thankful for being sick, but the lengths that her friends and family were going to in order to be there for her was astonishing. She felt safe and loved and seen in such a unique way that she’d never experienced before. Granted, she still felt anxious and terrified most of the time, but being surrounded by her people eased it. Clarke felt like the luckiest unlucky person alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me about the 100 on my blog moonshoesreyes.tumblr.com  
> i also have pics of my friends scar then and now if you're interested  
> i wrote about their 750 words of this completely baked


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is dedicated to Erykah (aka Clarke) who, for some reason, let me write about a super fucked up week in her life. And to Jamie (aka Raven) who edited all of my bullshit out. (Olivia I love you too!!)  
> To my Clarke and Raven, from your Murphy. Love you weirdos.  
> Also, Jamie has never seen Something's Gotta Give so I looked for the scene with the fucking butts for a goddamned hour. Found it, but(t, lol) at what cost.

SUNDAY

Clarke woke up on Sunday morning in an unexpectedly positive mood. Once again, Bellamy was already at the hospital and, once again, he was asleep. He was slumped in one of the uncomfortable chairs, book open on his chest, neck bent awkwardly. Checking her phone, she saw that it was only 7:00 am - but there was steam rising from the coffee cup next to him, so he couldn’t have been there too long. Clarke watched him for a moment, concerned. He must not be sleeping well. Bellamy always had issues sleeping; there had been many nights when she would wake up at 2:00 in the morning to pee and find him reading a book in the living room. 

Clarke made up her mind to get up, pee, and brush her teeth, then went over to Bellamy. Gently, she nudged his shoulder, and he groaned.

“No, five more minutes.”

“Yea, you’re getting more than five minutes. Get in the bed.”

At this, Bellamy’s eyes opened and he gazed at her blearily.

“What?” He asked, dubious.

“You heard me. We both need sleep. My mom won’t be here for another hour, and the nurses do their rounds at 8:30, so we’re gonna sleep and you’re not gonna permanently fuck up your neck.”

“Clarke, are you sure?”

“Yea, I just need to be on the left so my IV arm doesn’t get tangled. I know that’s usually your side, but you’re a big boy who can deal.”

Bellamy nodded, eyebrows still furrowed.

She got in the bed first, and he gently followed. He was stiff and awkward, keeping his arms straight and leaving a generous few inches between them that the size of the bed really didn’t allow for.

“Oh, grow up, Bell.” Clarke sat up and grabbed Bellamy’s right arm, pulling it around her shoulders as she laid back down and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Clarke… I -” 

“Shhh. Go to sleep, Bellamy.”

She could feel his heart racing, but steadfastly ignored it, and decided to pretend to be asleep to help him relax.

Sure enough, after a few minutes she could feel the tension leave the arm that was wrapped around her, and his left hand moved to lace with his right, cocooning her.

The warmth was welcome, and Clarke quickly found herself dozing off.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” a familiar voice drawled, pulling Clarke from the recesses of unconsciousness. 

She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly for a few moments. 

Her mom was next to her in the comfortable chair, sleeping as well, hand holding Clarke’s. There were earplugs blocking out any noise.

Bellamy was still asleep behind Clarke, his deep breaths reassuring.

And standing at the foot of her bed was the professional nuisance who had woken her up, John Murphy. He was smirking, as usual, but there was an abnormally gentle look in his eye.

Clarke extracted her left hand from the Bell cocoon - as her right was claimed by her mom - and moved it to her mouth, shushing Murphy.

“They haven’t been sleeping well,” she whispered. Murphy grinned, knowingly, before plopping down in the uncomfortable chair, kicking off his shoes, and putting his feet up on the bed.

He looked serious for a moment, internally debating something before he spoke.

“And how have you been sleeping, Griffin?”

Clarke sighed. Bellamy wasn’t the only one with insomnia, and it got worse the more stressed out she felt. Her insomnia hadn’t really been too bad since she graduated. In college, she would be lucky if she could fall asleep before 3:00. Fortunately, Murphy’s natural sleep patterns kept him wide awake until at least 3:00, which she had discovered one morning when she stumbled into the basement of their crappy dorm while trying to avoid waking up her roommate. Murphy had been watching something on his computer, and when Clarke realized that it was Monty Python and the Holy Grail, she abandoned her book and joined him. Naturally, she didn’t give him any choice in the matter. He became her go-to person when she couldn't sleep - whether it be to watch TV, play Mario Kart in his single, or read Harry Potter to each other, alternating chapters. Murphy always called Voldemort the Dark Lard. It never failed to make Clarke laugh. Sometimes Raven would join and force them to play a round of pool on the beaten up, uneven pool table, which had been cheerfully dubbed Old Boobs after a carving of the word “boobs” in the wood. Towards the end of their senior year, they broke into their old dorm, and upon seeing a new pool table, they rechristened it New Boobs, complete with a vaguely graphic carving.

Which is all to say that Murphy pretty much knew all the telltale signs of Clarke’s restless nights. It was useless to attempt to avoid the conversation.

“Not too great,” Clarke admitted.

“On a scale from Freshman year to Senior year, how bad is it?”

“Junior year, fall semester.”

“Ah, your major crisis year. The semester you wanted to be an artist.”

There were a few months there when Clarke had thought she couldn't do the research she was interested in as well as the art that she loved. It wasn’t the most stressed she’d ever been, but it was up there. That was the semester she got into Monty’s weed stash.

She just nodded.

Murphy’s eyebrows knit together, and he got up to sit by her knees. He barely fit on the bed, but he took her free hand in his own.

“You know you’ll be alright, right Griffin?”

“You don’t know that, Murphy.”

“Yea, I do. Want to know how? Because you’re Clarke fucking Griffin. You’re a goddamned cockroach. You would look fucking death in the eye, and say ‘not today, fucker.’ This isn’t the end of your story, Clarke. This is another shitty bump - you and I have had our fair share of shitty bumps, and we always get through them. Because we are cockroaches and we stick together, and we say fuck you, apocalypse. Also I looked up the surgery and the risks are, like, super low. Wanna see a video of it? It’s super gnarly.”

“Decidedly not. But that was beautiful, Murphy.” Clarke smiled, chuckling, tears pooling in her eyes. “A rambling, barely coherent mess, but beautiful.”

“Yea, well, you can't be good at everything.”

“And yet, I am,” Clarke jested, before sobering and squeezing his hand. “I love you, Murphy. You know that, right? I’m here for all of your shitty bumps. Good luck getting rid of me.”

“Yea, yea, don't go soft on me, Griffin. I love you, too.”

“Is there going to be an orgy that I wasn’t invited to?” Raven asked, entering and seeing the tangle of bodies on the bed. Raven’s voice was significantly louder than Murphy and Clarke’s, and Bellamy shot up in bed, head colliding with Murphy’s.

Raven cackled.

“Reyes, you know that you’re always invited,” Murphy grinned, patting his lap with the hand not rubbing his head.

“I leave thirty minutes after you and miss all of the action.” Raven said, blatantly avoiding Murphy’s invitation, instead sitting cross-legged by Bellamy’s feet, which were now pulled to his chest.

The three chatted quietly, Abby slowly regaining consciousness, until Hot Nurse walked in.

“You’re late today,” Clarke said lightly.

“No, we were here at 8:30 sharp - your mother can be scary when she wants to be.”

Clarke smiled, allowing Niylah to change her IV and take a blood sample. She tried to ignore Murphy and Raven grinning and poking both each other and Clarke’s feet at the presence of Hot Nurse Niylah. Bellamy was looking at them, confused. 

Clarke decided distraction was the best option to avoid uncomfortable questions.

“Who brought breakfast!”

“That would be me, greedy.” Murphy went to his backpack, pulling out a tupperware container with pancakes and bacon in them.

“Murphy, I love you.” Clarke proclaimed, deadly serious.

“Clarke, we are in public,” he chastened. “Oh, and I have a girlfriend,” he added on, as more of an afterthought. Murphy considered for a moment. “Maybe she’d be into it?”

Completely ignoring him, Clarke made gimme hands and Murphy passed the breakfast over. Clarke wordlessly handed Bellamy a piece of bacon - they would, of course, share. Niylah headed out, Abby following to make a few calls.

“Speaking of Emori - you cool if she stops by later?” Murphy asked, swatting Raven’s hand away as she tried to steal a piece of bacon.

“Murphy, you don't need to ask permission. I actually like Emori. I’d spend more time with her if you weren't so convinced that she, Raven, and I would take over the world.”

“That is a trio that I don't want to handle.”

“God, imagine if O joined them,” Bellamy said, shuttering.

Raven and Clarke grinned at each other, both musing about the chaos they could create.

“Great job, Bellamy. You’re going to lead to the end of the fucking world.”

“Don’t worry, Murphy,” Raven patted his knee. “We’ll be benevolent dictators. And we’ll keep you around to cook for us, maybe put on a show every once in a while.”

Murphy looked aghast. “Like… a strip show?”

Raven looked to Clarke, considering.

“Dealers choice,” Clarke shrugged, grabbing a pancake.

“We texted Monty last night, he’ll be by today as well.”

At this point in Clarke’s hospital stay, there were a plethora of group chats. First, there was Raven, Murphy and Clarke, titled the “Urination Association,” for her frequent peeing, from the first night she was admitted. “Squad” had everyone in their friend group who cared about the big happenings. There was “Mini Squad,” with Monty, Clarke, Raven, and Murphy. There was “Even Smaller Squid,” with Monty, Raven, and Murphy. Clarke was there when it was created - it was supposed to be “Even Smaller Squad,” but Murphy mistyped, and squid was funnier. “Smaller Squibs” also existed, with Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy. She didn’t know the history of that one. Apparently there was also “Behind Clarke’s Back” with Monty, Raven, Murphy, and Bellamy, the existence of which Monty let slip during his last visit. 

All of this to say, there were a lot of different forms of communication, based on who needed to be communicated with.

“You know,” Clarke began, mouth full, “there isn’t going to be enough room for all of us in here.”

Murphy just smirked. “I have a plan for that.”

At around 2:00, Murphy got a text.

A grin accompanied it, and Murphy began ushering everyone, including Abby, out of the room and towards the family room, which was pretty much always empty. There, Clarke found Emori arranging chairs into lines and Monty fiddling with the projector he used in lieu of a television. There was a bowl of popcorn on the table, and cookies that Clarke guessed Murphy had made.

Murphy spread his arms, presenting the room to Clarke.

“Welcome to your very own home theater, Griffin! You’re welcome.” 

Clarke looked around, grinning. She caught her mom’s gaze, and Abby had a weird, purely joyful look in her eyes. As though she was seeing just how loved Clarke was, and it made everything better.

“I love it. What is today’s matinée, Mr. Murphy?” Clarke took his hand as he extended it, letting him lead her towards a center chair, adjusting Crystal so it wouldn't obstruct anyone's view.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Griffin” he put on a terrible, posh British accent, brushing non-existent dust off her seat before she sat. “Today’s matinée is a seminal classic, one of the greatest movies of the past century, if I dare say. A truly groundbreaking feat in modern entertainment.”

Murphy sat to Clarke’s left, and Bellamy to her right. Everyone else found their seats, and Monty started the movie before taking his own spot.

_“Once upon a time there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort. Which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible, fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. She waited in the dragon’s keep, in the highest room of the tallest tower, waiting for her true love, and true love’s first kiss._

_Like that’s ever gonna happen. What a load of --”_

And the dulcet tones of Smash Mouth’s All Star were met with cheers of elation from Clarke and her friends.

Clarke fell asleep around the time Robin Hood made his appearance, with a hushed request for Bellamy to wake her up when they started the next movie. Because Clarke knew Murphy, and she knew this would be a double feature.

He did as he was told, and woke her from her position on his shoulder. There was a 10 minute intermission between the first and second movies, during which Clarke peed and moved to sit with Raven. Raven grinned that full, toothy grin and grabbed Clarke’s hand, rubbing it between her own.

“How we doing today?” Raven asked, voice low for discretion. 

Clarke shrugged a shoulder.

“I’m okay. I love having everyone here - I was worried that I would need to… I don't know. Host, or something. But everyone is being pretty great. They just want to be here. Tiring, though. People are tiring. And I’m always fucking exhausted.”

Raven nodded, understanding. Clarke supposed if anyone understood extended stays in the hospital, it would be Raven. It had taken almost a month before she had been allowed to leave after the car accident that left her leg fucked up. Clarke had spent the majority of that month by Raven’s side, even during the beginning when she had been so angry at the world. Clarke had just let her rage, even when it was directed at her, because it was what Raven had needed. Clarke and Raven understood each other better than almost anyone.

Clarke leaned her head against Raven’s.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Yea, I know that, you weirdo.”

“I mean it. You’re always there for me. Always know exactly what I need, even if I don't. I’m lucky to have you in my life.”

“Yea, well, you’re not so bad yourself, sicko.”

Murphy pushed his head between them, forcefully separating Clarke and Raven’s heads with his own, before turning to Raven.

“Don’t believe it, Reyes. She told me she loved me earlier. I think this entire hospital thing is just some long con to make us love her.”

Raven put her hand on Murphy’s forehead, and pushed him back into his seat. She left her hand behind her, palm up, for Emori to high five, which she quickly did.

“Come on, baby! Let’s get some dramatic Jaime Lannister up in this house!” Murphy announced, bouncing back quickly.

Bellamy turned to Murphy, confused, “the fuck are you talking about?”

“Charming. He looks like Jaime.”

Bellamy said nothing, just sat back in his seat, seemingly shocked by the news.

“No he doesn’t,” Monty scoffed, incredulous, before considering for a moment and also sitting back in his seat, defeated. “Oh my God. He does.”

Murphy smirked.

“You dweebs need to learn: I’m always right.”

“Uh, would like to clarify,” Emori chimed in, “Can testify. He is decidedly not always right. I would say 10% of the time, maybe. But Charming looking like Lannister? That's in the 10%”

“Emori, you’re supposed to be on my side,” Murphy whined.

“Sorry, babe. On the side of truth.” She patted his hand.

“Now that’s some bullshit,” Murphy muttered.

“What was that?” Emori raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s start the movie!” Murphy declared, loudly.  
Emori swatted him in the head as Monty hit play.

Raven and Clarke stood and danced during the Fairy God Mother’s “I Need a Hero,” performance. At least, Raven danced. Clarke made an attempt. They serenaded each other intimately, using Crystal as a microphone. Towards the end of the song, they even managed to get Emori to join in, and after the song the three of them ended up on the floor, Clarke’s arm propped up on a chair so the IV line could reach, with all of their legs tangled as they finished the movie. 

When the movie did end, and after they watched the special feature of Far Far Away Idol of course, Murphy posed an important question.

“So, how did Donkey and Dragon fuck?”

“Alright!” Abby stood, “On that note, I think I’m heading back to the hotel for the night. You good, Clarke?” Abby asked.

“Yea, I’m good, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Clarke.” 

Abby kissed Clarke on the forehead, before saying goodbye to her friends.

“So,” Murphy clapped his hands, rubbing them together as soon as the door shut behind Abby. “Donkey and Dragon, how’d they fuck?”

Raven helped Clarke into a seat as the rest of their friends cleaned up the mess they’d made and debated the mechanics of donkey/dragon intercourse.

“My question is,” Raven interjected, “were the kids hatched or birthed?”

“It’s one of the world’s great mysteries,” Clarke decided, “like how Hagrid was conceived.”

Murphy’s head snapped to her, as though he was offended that there was a fictional sex question that he hadn’t thought of.

“Well, think about it. His mom was a giant and his dad was a human. How tall were giants in the Harry Potter universe, Bell?” 

“Approximately 25 feet,” Bellamy replied instantly. He and Clarke had discussed this at length, and she constantly forgot how tall the giants were, so Bellamy had it memorized at this point.

“Okay, so she was, like, 25 feet, and let's be generous and say Hagrid’s dad was 6 foot. She is almost five times larger than him. And his dick is human sized, but her vagina is five times as large as a human vagina. So not only does that bring the question of how he got in her, but even if he did, that is a long way for his swimmers to travel. Plus, how would something that loose even bring him any pleasure? It feels anatomically impossible.”

“I still think my theory is correct.” Bellamy said, putting the chairs back.

“Which is?” Monty asked.

“I think that Hagrid’s dad went inside Hagrid’s mom, full body, and masturbated.”

Murphy choked on the water he was drinking.

“This is the best,” he decided.

Clarke was exhausted. They ordered a quick dinner from the hospital, and her friends ended up leaving before nine when Murphy noted that Clarke was dozing off, making it far too easy for him to steal her tapioca pudding. The events of the day allowed her to fall asleep rather quickly after they left.

MONDAY

With the surgery fast approaching, Clarke’s anxiety was increasing, and the amount of sleep she was getting was therefore decreasing. Clarke tossed and turned throughout the night, so she happened to be awake when Bellamy arrived at 7:00 on Monday morning. Wordlessly, Clarke shifted in the bed, giving him room to join her. He hesitated at first, but quickly acquiesced, stripping out of his coat and dropping it and his messenger bag next to the uncomfortable chair, and laying down next to her. 

Safe and comforted, Clarke fell asleep in minutes.

The rest of Monday was boring. Lots of doctors visited, and Abby asked lots of questions. 

Clarke was in and out of sleep most of the day. Honestly, she wanted Monday to be over with so Tuesday could come and she could finally get the surgery over with. The procedure was scheduled for first thing Tuesday morning. Neither the ultrasound, x-ray, or CAT Scan could get a clear image of which of her glands were inflamed, so they would have to figure that out while they were inside of her.

Clarke took general knowledge quizzes on Sporcle with Raven, played bullshit with Murphy, rested on Bellamy as he read to her, and confided in her mom whenever they had some alone time in the room. 

And then the day was over, and Clarke was falling asleep. Tomorrow she would have her throat cut open and a piece of her body removed.

Nothing to stress about.

TUESDAY

Clarke’s surgery was scheduled for 8:00 in the morning. Abby had stayed the night, sleeping in the comfortable chair, hand never leaving Clarke’s. 

A couple of transport guys showed up at 7:00 to bring Clarke to an ambulance that drove her three whole minutes to a different building where she was prepped for the surgery. Abby had told Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy where to meet them, anticipating that Clarke would have left the room before they arrived. 

Clarke was once again put in a wheelchair, despite her protests about being able to walk, and navigated through the maze of halls. Niylah winked at her on her way out, and Clarke’s cheeks flushed.

The nurses had put the various items that Clarke had accumulated during her stay in large plastic bags, promising that they would be in her recovery room after the surgery.

Clarke was taken to an open room with stations separated by curtains. Her mom sat with her as she changed out of her sweatpants and t-shirt and into an open backed, scratchy hospital gown. Patches were placed all over her to monitor her blood pressure and heart rate.

She kept thinking about that scene from Something’s Gotta Give, where Jack Nicholson was walking around a hospital with his ass hanging out. 

Her anesthesiologist introduced herself. She was friendly, and discussed what kind of drugs Clarke would be on during the surgery, and what she could expect. She liked the anesthesiologist. The woman talked to Clarke like she was a human, not a guinea pig. She signed what felt like 1000 forms. New nurses that Clarke had never met introduced themselves. A medical student asked if she could watch the procedure. It felt as though Clarke was on display, as opposed to preparing for a surgery that could save her life.

Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy arrived 30 minutes before she was set to head into the OR.

Murphy and Raven were all jokes, comforting her and telling her about the shit they would do when she was out of the hospital. 

Bellamy just sat with her, letting her crush his hand in her own, as he repeatedly brushed his thumb across her fingers. 

And then a nurse whose name Clarke didn’t know was telling her it was time. Abby was kissing her forehead, Murphy and Raven were hugging her together. And Bellamy was still holding her hand.

“You gotta let go, Bell. Don’t think they’ll let you back there with me.”

He nodded, but still didn't let go.

“Bell, come on. Sooner we get this done, sooner we can be out of here.”

Shaking his head slightly, Bellamy released Clarke’s hand. It felt cold right away.

“I’ll see you soon, Clarke. Don't do anything crazy without me.”

She managed a smile, waving as he left the prep area for the waiting room.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, Clarke’s smile dropped.

“Let’s get this over with,” Clarke mumbled, laying back on her bed as the nurse rolled it to the OR.

She wasn’t asked to count backwards from ten, like you see in Grey’s Anatomy. Instead, the anesthesiologist just spoke to her, telling Clarke to take deep breaths, as she put the mask over Clarke’s nose and mouth. Clarke got dizzy and her eyes were starting to droop when the anesthesiologist told Clarke when she was about to inject the anesthesia. It felt like something cold was running through her arm. For a brief moment, Clarke thought that she had peed herself. Before she could panic, Clarke slipped into nothingness.

And immediately woke up when someone said her name. It felt as though she had just closed her eyes, but Clarke was also aware that time had passed - it was disorienting.

Clarke opened her eyes to find a friendly but unfamiliar face looking at her.

“Welcome back, Clarke. Everything went fine - do you feel like you need pain medication?”

Clarke nodded before slipping back into unconsciousness.

The first thing Clarke noticed when she came back to awareness was something gripping her hand. Not too tightly, but it was a firm, grounding presence. 

Clarke sluggishly opened her eyes to see Bellamy smiling at her.

Oh, she loved that face.

She could squish it - it was so squishable.

“Morning,” he said, softly.

“Hello, sailor,” she responded, drawing out the ‘hello’.

He grinned, big and earnest.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good, baby - how you feeling?”

Bellamy laughed. “I’m alright. How’s your throat?”

For the first time since she woke, Clarke remembered her discomfort.

“My throat? That bitch itchy. Bell, will you scratch it for me? Pretty please? And where's my mom?”

“I don’t know if that's a good idea - maybe later. Your mom will be by in a few minutes.”

Clarke pouted, and Bellamy flashed his teeth in a smile.

He had really white teeth. And super dark hair. Damn, his hair looked soft. He should know that his hair was soft - it was the least Clarke could do. This man deserved to know the beauty of his hair.

“Bellamy Blake - you have the most beautifulest hair. It’s so soft. The amount of times I have wanted to brush that hair. You deserve to have your hair brushed every day. And not stupid CVS brushes, no, you deserve an 18th century princess hair brush. Oh my god, Bellamy, you’re Rapunzel?”

He chuckled. “Oh they gave you the good stuff, didn’t they.”

“Nope. You give me the good stuff. You’re the goodest stuff.”

“I am, am I?”

“You totally are. God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Clarke,” he said easily. He wasn't getting it. Suddenly, it was very important that he understand.

“Bellamy, no. I love you. Like, I like like love you. I love you like Jack Nicholson loves Diane Keaton. In that movie with the butts.”

Bellamy sobered a little, but didn’t pull his hand away.

“Wow, they really gave you something strong if you’re talking like that.”

“No. Bellamy! Listen to me. I love you. Clarke Griffin loves Bellamy Blake like Flynn loves Rapunzel! Clarke, me, has loved you forever. It’s super annoying. Murphy keeps telling me to stop being a baby. But it's Murphy! He’s the baby. Your lips are nice.”

Bellamy had stilled, but Clarke barely noticed. She was still going on about his lips, until he pulled his hand out of hers.

“We can’t do this now, Clarke. It’s not right.”

Clarke quieted. He didn't feel the same way. That was fine - she knew that. She was fine. She was okay. She… she wanted her mom.

“Bell, can you go find my mom?” Clarke asked, hushed and feeling like she was on the verge of choking.

Bellamy closed his eyes, looking mad at himself, before he silently left the room.

Clarke also closed her eyes, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Abby said as she swept into the room. Bellamy hovered by the door briefly before entering, sitting in a chair in the corner. 

Clarke held onto her mom's hand like a lifeline until she fell asleep again.

The next time she woke, she could immediately tell that the drugs had worn off. Her throat ached and itched, and a rush of shame flooded her body. She could not believe she had told Bellamy that she loved him. She’s such an idiot. 

Clarke opened her eyes to find her mother directly to her right, texting with the hand not holding onto Clarke.

Bellamy still sat in the corner of the room, writing something in his leather bound journal. 

Murphy and Raven had chairs pulled close on either side of the foot of her bed, and both had their feet up near her ankles.

“Get your dirty feet off my clean sheets, you heathens,” Clarke rasped, her voice sore and husky.

At her words, everyone in the room snapped to attention.

“Look who didn’t die!” Murphy exclaimed, genuine relief coloring his words.

“Murphy cried!” Raven tattled, smirking.

“Fuck yeah, I cried. I’m a masculine man, super in touch with my feelings.”

Clarke smiled as they bickered, tuning them out while turning to her mom.

“How’d it go?” Clarke asked.

“It went well. Turns out, only one gland was inflamed, which is good. You were out for about two and a half hours, which was to be expected. Someone did get poked by a needle, but it was a nurse, and the needle hadn’t touched you and didn’t touch you. Also, apparently your veins are terrible, so now your arms look like a heroin addict’s.”

Clarke examined her arms, and sure enough she had plenty of puncture marks down her forearms. Abby continued.

“The catheter was in and out while you were still under --”

“Clarke had a catheter?” Murphy interrupted, excited.

“Yes, it’s common practice for a procedure like this.” Abby sounded confused.

“So, you’re telling me, in that moment Clarke became Catheter Lady?”

Raven smirked, but Abby didn’t bother to ask for clarification because she had no intention of learning more about the group’s ridiculous collection of inside jokes.

“Overall, everything went as well as it could have. I should call your dad - he’s been wanting an update.”

Abby kissed Clarke on the forehead, brushing some hair out of her daughter's face before heading to the hallway. 

Clarke closed her eyes briefly, before turning to Raven.

“Hey, Ray? Could you give me a hand with the bathroom?”

Raven smiled kindly. The amount of times Clarke had helped Raven after the accident, there was barely any part of the other that they hadn’t both seen.

“Of course, sicko. Or - I guess you’re not sick anymore. I’ll have to think of another term of endearment,” Raven mused as she helped Clarke out of the bed and to the private bathroom near where Bellamy sat, silent.

Raven helped gather Clarke’s gown as she did her business, and wadded up the toilet paper for her. Clarke’s left hand had an IV port in it, so Raven used her left hand to help wash Clarke’s right. She left the sink running after the soap was rinsed off, and turned to Clarke.

“What happened.”

“I had a parathyroid gland removed.”

“Not what I meant,” Raven said, impatient. “With Bellamy. Murphy and I got back and he said you had woken up but he was acting weird. Spill. And talk quick, we need to conserve water.”

“High Clarke may have told him that she loved him.”

Raven closed her eyes, “Clarke, have you ever considered that he might like you back?”

Clarke shrugged, badly feigning nonchalance. “He shut me down. That’s what I needed to know. Now that I know, it’ll be fine.”

Clarke pointedly turned off the sink, slowly shuffling towards the door. 

Clarke was obnoxiously avoiding looking at Raven as she got back in the bed, instead keeping her eyes pointed firmly at her phone.

“Emori texted,” Murphy announced, standing. “She and Monty are here, but they’re useless and lost. I’m going to go find them.”

Raven fixed Clarke with a look.

“I’ll go with you, my leg’s starting to cramp anyways.”

Clarke finally met Raven’s eyes, desperately pleading not to be left alone with Bellamy. Raven just smirked before following Murphy out of the room.

Bellamy put his notebook away, and took Abby’s empty chair next to Clarke.

He looked as though he was considering his words for a minute before he finally spoke.

“What do you remember?”

“Am I allowed to lie and say nothing?”

“Clarke.”

“Fine. I remember what I said. You do have nice hair,” Clarke said in a feeble attempt to distract Bellamy. He just continued to look at her, as though she was a puzzle that he couldn’t solve.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, finally.

“Does it make a difference?” She muttered back.

Bellamy was silent for a minute, considering. Clarke covered her eyes with her hand, unable to watch the downfall of her most important friendship.

“Echo broke up with me because she thought I wasn't over you.”

Clarke stilled at the sudden words, slowly moving her hand from her face but still not looking at Bellamy. He continued.

“I couldn’t even be upset with her about it. Because I wasn’t over you - I had tried to convince myself it was just… leftovers? Of what I had felt before I met Echo. I thought how I felt about you was something that would always be there, and that it was okay and I could try to move on, so it wouldn’t get in the way of us being us and we could go back to normal. So I dated Echo. But always felt what I felt in the background. And then…”

Clarke grabbed his hand, and he looked up from the rip in the hem of his t-shirt that he had been focusing on.

“When I saw you in the hospital bed that first day, Clarke. I can’t remember ever being that scared for anyone besides Octavia. God, even when you called me - Echo saw how absolutely wrecked I was. That was the tipping point for her. But all of this happening, and seeing you… It made me realize what an absolute idiot I had been. I couldn't just will away how I felt for you. Nothing had changed - you hadn't changed. I still loved the way you fight too many fights at once, and I love the way you don't put up with my bullshit, and I love the way you care so much about everything, and I love the way I feel when I’m with you. You hadn’t changed, so how could my feelings? Loving you is a part of me, and it won’t just go away because I tell it to. And I wouldn’t want it to - Clarke, you --”

His words cut off as Clarke slowly sat up and carded her fingers through his hair, pulling his face to hers. 

The kiss was short, gentle. Their foreheads remained pressed together afterwards, both absorbing the moment.

“I love you, too, idiot.”

“Yea, you might have mentioned that,” Bellamy smiled, kissing her again. He was tentative, not wanting her to overexert herself right after surgery, but he moved to sit on the bed for a better angle. It wasn’t anything raunchy, or extreme. They would have time for that when she was out of the hospital. But.. it was Bellamy. It might have been her best kiss ever.

“It’s about damned time.”

Clarke gasped, pulling her head away from Bellamy.

“Wells?” Tears were already pooling in her eyes.

“I had to find out that you were in surgery from my dad. Who had to find out from your mom? What kind of world are we living in?”

Clarke swatted at Bellamy until he reluctantly helped her stand, despite Wells’ protests.

She hugged him tightly and she felt like she was home. 

“Wait, you knew I was in love with Bellamy too?” Clarke asked, reeling her head back entirely too forcefully without removing her arms from her friend, making her neck ache. 

Wells knitted his eyebrows, confused. “You didn’t know?”

Abby, who had been in the doorway, apparently having shown Wells to the room, answered for Clarke.

“Clarke was apparently in denial until recently. I’m glad she finally sorted it out,” Abby smiled lightly at Bellamy, who just rubbed the back of his head, bashful.

“Did everyone know before me,” Clarke whined, falling back into Wells’ arms. 

“Huh, Wells and Clarke, that's a plot twist I didn’t see coming,” Murphy drawled, entering the room tailed by Raven, Emori, and Monty.

“Oh, hell no” Clarke exclaimed as Wells made a face. “Ew, gross. She’s like my sister. Plus, she was just making out with Bellamy.”

“What!” Raven and Murphy shouted in unison, heads snapping towards Clarke.

Clarke hid her blush behind Bellamy, who helped her back into bed.

“Don’t act all entitled, and maybe we’ll tell you the story later.” Bellamy proclaimed calmly.

“Oh, screw that!” Raven decided. “I know the story. Clarke was high on painkillers, accidentally blurted it out, Bellamy realized he was a dipshit, then Clarke realized she was a dipshit, and they live happily ever after with the dumbest yet most beautiful babies in the history of babies.”

“Thanks, Raven,” Clarke mumbled.

Clarke laid back in bed, exhausted. Her friends all claimed seats around her, Bellamy on her left and her mom on her right, Wells taking up station at the foot of the bed. 

“Oh,” Raven exclaimed, “Does that mean I shouldn’t pass along Hot Nurse’s number like she asked?”

Bellamy turned to Clarke, smirking irrepressibly.

“I hate you, Raven. You’re the absolute worst.”

“No you don’t. I’m the best and everyone knows it.”

“No, I don't. I love you, all of you. Thank you for making this week bearable - who would have thought that us delinquents could navigate a minor medical emergency? I’m lucky to have all of you in my life. Even you, Murphy.”

He smiled, and Clarke could swear he was getting misty eyed.

“Don’t be a baby, Griffin, you were fine!” Murphy claimed, breaking the tension.

Clarke held Bellamy’s hand for the rest of the day, and enjoyed the company of her friends. Her family, really. She felt safe, and loved, and on the path to healthy. And that was all on them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! The paragraph about Clarke's insomnia and Old Boobs is true. Also, IRL, my friend who is Clarke asked me (aka Murphy) to help her pee, and god did i want murphy to help her pee, but logic won out over funny.  
> I hope you enjoyed - this was so fun to write!  
> yell at me at MoonShoesReyes.tumblr.com!!  
> Bye!

**Author's Note:**

> so just so you know, I am Murphy in this. I had to add something that I did to make him more of an asshole. that says something.  
> come yell at me at moonshoesreyes.tumblr.com  
> new update within a week, maybe!


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